The Everyday Problems of a Tenth Walker
by lycanthrophy-kitsune
Summary: These are one-shot drabbles of the everyday, funny problems that a tenth walker would encounter. Just popped into my head and wanted to have some fun. Please mention some problems you would like for me to write in a review. Thanks!
1. In Which the 10th Walker Tells a Story

Hello everyone! I've been on a LoTR fix and I had it in my head to do some one shots concerning a tenth walker and the everyday , funny problems that would come from trying to bridge cultural gaps. And you know, worlds.

So this first one is my tenth walker trying to tell the Fellowship a story.

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings nor Rise of the Guardians. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien and Dreamworks respectively.

* * *

I soon found out that setting up camp was _a lot _harder than Disney movies made it out to be. Those lucky bastards practically snapped their fingers and bing, bam, boom, fire! Around this time I also found out how hard roughing it was. The third surprise was that I _also_ discovered Mother Nature and I aren't on the best of terms. Even collecting firewood turned out to be a battle.

When I had asked to help, the guys had kinda stood there stupefied. Aragorn had recovered quickest and had given me the task of collecting wood. Which simultaneously ended up being the easiest and most boring job ever. Bang up guy that Strider was.

Turns out though that trees aren't all too eager to let loose some branches for kindle. And heaven help the person who thought whacking braches off was a good idea. There had been a moment where I had honestly thought Legolas was going to go into heart failure when I had attempted it.

Somehow I don't think that elf killer would look good on my resume.

So I mostly puttered about, being useless, while everyone else organized camp like a well-oiled machine. I didn't cook, which had scandalized half the men when they heard that, and the first time I saw an animal being skinned I didn't eat for like two days. One things for sure, I'll never look at a rabbit the same way again.

The hobbits had been the most accepting of me so far, and since we spent most of the day reminiscing about all the good food we were missing out on I had quickly been invited to the fold. Gimli was next in line for being friendly and I quickly found out that dwarven women were seen as being able to almost go toe to toe with their men. It didn't hurt that they all looked the same apparently. It was the beards or so I've been told.

Aragorn was in the middle of the friendly scale. Personally I think it was because Gandalf said that there wasn't anything to fear from me that he even smiled in my direction.

Legolas was too busy being a hippy and only paid attention when I was about to hurt his spirit friends or something.

And on the far end of the scale was good ol'Boromir.

Good ol'Boromir. There was a span of five whole seconds when I first saw him that I thought he was good looking. Then those five seconds past and I have yet to see the scowl leave his face. If he isn't careful that'll stick. For some reason he didn't appreciate my little bit of wisdom when I shared it with him. Oh well.

Found out pretty quick that Boromir had the mindset of Gibbs in Pirates of the Caribbean when it came to women and luck. Except, you know, this wasn't a ship and I happen to consider myself to be very lucky.

Well until recently that is.

He also probably thought I was off my rocker due to my five minutes of full mental meltdown once it sunk in that yes, those LARPERS in front of me were _really _the Fellowship and yes, it was too bad I hadn't actually taken acid before I saw them.

At least I would have been able to blame something.

The theory I'm currently working with is that I somehow died and Supernatural got heaven right. Some people get to live forever in a bar and some people go on an adventure in Lord of the Rings. Go figure.

Shared the theory with the group and they had looked at me like I had done a full strip tease in front of them. Pole dancing included.

Only Gandalf had looked at me with that infernal Dumbledore twinkle as he leaned against his staff. I had a feeling that he was thinking of that elf dude who had killed some demon or something then magically came back to life naked in the woods. Or maybe he was actually imagining me doing a strip tease. Heaven only knew how old Gandalf was. It had to have been years since he last got some.

Thank God I didn't show up naked. Talk about being cold. Sheesh. Probably would have given Borormir a stroke. And ruined the Hobbits of their innocence. And Legolas'. That dude gave off the vibe of being the world's oldest virgin. Literally.

Dinner was being passed around as that thought drifted through my head and I snorted into my bowl. Much to Boromir's disgust. Gimli just smiled at me around his pipe. I wasn't really paying attention though since I was thinking how funny _that _movie would be. Forget the 40 Year Old Virgin, how about the 2,994 Year Old Virgin.

I couldn't help but throw a pitying look his way. No wonder he was a hippy. Had to get free love from somewhere.

It was pretty quiet as everyone finished up. I had fallen on mine like a starving wolf and had finished in 2 minutes flat. Everything was so healthy! The hunger never ended. Where was the sugar and cholesterol clogging goodness in this world? I thought it was supposed to be Heaven! Where was the Hershey's?

I stared fore lonely at the bottom of my sad wooden bowl as everyone finished up around me. Ugh, I needed to take my mind off of the fact that my stomach was having a love affair with my spinal cord. Glancing around I noticed how everyone was staring into the fire, looking pretty depressed as they smoked their pipes.

Except Legolas. The hippy was staring at the stars. Pipe less. His dislike of smoking kinda threw my hippy image of him; weren't hippy's supposed to be like stoned all the time? How was he going to do that without smoking some weed? Personally if I was going to live forever I would smoke. Hey living forever would kinda give you the excuse to do all the bad things in life that are supposed to kill you.

One of my friends back home would have a field day over that excuse. No drug would be safe.

Regardless something would have to be done about the silence. There was just something about awkward silences that were awkward. Clearing my throat I jumped slightly when nine pairs of eyes turned to look at me. Talk about being on the spot.

"Soooooooo," dragging out the word I tried to quickly think of what I wanted to say without coming off like a creeper. "Who wants to hear a story?"

The second the sentence left my mouth I wanted to slap myself. Why yes children I do have candy, why don't you come into my white panel van and I'll show you. Asking if grown men want to hear a story. Someone shoot me.

Just seconds before I was going to fake a heart attack Pippin spoke up, "I would like to hear it. Is it from your world?"

Ah Pippin, bless his little munchkin heart.

"Dude I told you. This is _Heaven. _We're all from the same world. Duh! Some of us just happened to have plastic surgery before we died. **_cough, cough The Hippy cough***"_

Pausing I stared at them in a new light as a thought struck me like lightening. "Hey did you guys die during the Third Crusade? Man that would explain _everything!_ Your clothes, the way you speak like Shakespeare, your backwards thinking when it comes to women. Ah, I'm a genius."

"What's the Third Crusade?"

"Why would someone shake a spear?"

"I guess that's a no then."

Tapping a finger on my chin I tried to think of a story that wasn't too childish. After a couple of moments I broke out into a smile and yelled, "I got it!" Everyone gave a small jump at that.

"Ok, this is about the Rise of the Guardians." Ok so it wasn't Disney. Sue me. It happened to be one of the last movies I watched before I died.

"So there was once a boy named Jack who liked to play tricks and have fun. One day he was out skating with his sister,"

"What's skating?"

"It's when you strap thin pieces of metal to your feet and move about on the ice. Don't interrupt!"

"Why would someone want to do that?"

"Cause it's fun, now shut up! Where was I?"

"Anywho Jack and his sister were out skating when the ice started to crack under the sister's skates. Now Jack had a shepherd's pole with him and he distracted his sister to make her come closer before he swung her back to the bank before falling through the ice himself and dying,"

"Is that the story?"

"No! Stop interrupting!"

"Since Jack had died saving his sister the Man in the Moon decided to turn him into Jack Frost. The personified spirit of winter,"

"That's ridiculous. There cannot be a man in the moon. Everyone knows that Elirovir's spirit resides as the moon." Cue the hippy. Of course he would believe a woman was the moon. Annnnd all my doubts regarding his hippy status died little stoned deaths. Man, even other hippies would probably worship him as their hippy god or something.

"Hippy! It's just a story! The Man in the Moon is a myth. The moon is nothing but a big rock that separated from the earth billions of years ago and got caught in the gravitational pull of the earth's center and therefore rotates as a natural satellite, influencing the tides. Duh."

All I got back from that little educational lecture were blank looks. I groaned. It was like trying to educate a snail!

"Back to the story. Jack, due to the trauma of drowning I'm assuming, forgot all about his past. And for three hundred years he wandered the earth bringing winter and not being believed in."

Pippin had raised his hand looking like he wanted to ask a question, so with a sigh I nodded towards him, "Yes?"

"What does being believed in have to do with anything?"

"Well the Guardians have to be believed in, in order to be seen."

"Who are the other Guardians?"

"If you would let me finish you would know!"

…

"You're not a very good story teller are you?"

"Augh! Screw it!"


	2. In Which the 10th Walker Holds a Sword

The usual disclaimers apply.

If anyone has any suggestions for other problems let me know :)

* * *

So according to Boromir I'm pretty useless.

Aragorn tried to soften the blow by saying a lot of fancy words I didn't get, throwing in a lot of double negatives to confuse me, and generally saying the same thing five different ways.

If you're going to insult me at least do it Boromir's way. To my face.

Boromir had gotten the point across by smoothly stepping in front of Aragorn's babbling and saying, with absolutely no tact,

"You're a liability."

Ok. So maybe he didn't flat out say 'You're useless' but there isn't a lot of complimentary things you can pull from the sentence he _did _end up saying.

Actually there isn't any. At all.

Which is how I ended up here. With a sword. Dangling like a dead fish from my hand.

Aragorn had blushed at Boromir's bold statement and I almost laughed at the poor fellow. But I didn't. That would be mean. It was hard explaining the concept of how there were _no _gentlemen in my world to a bunch of _gentlemen._ For some reason they couldn't wrap their heads around it. Oh well, they had asked. It's not like I can understand it for them.

I told Aragorn not to worry about it. I was, in fact, a big girl. Which could obviously be seen by the size of my boobs. There weren't any twelve year olds out there with a B cup.

Ok, well, yes there were. There were probably twelve years olds who had D cups, but that isn't the point. The point was, was that I was no shrinking violet. I went to a gun range once. I can handle an oversized butcher knife.

I did have a laugh though when Boromir turned bright red and Aragorn looked like he was about to faint when I had tried pointing out my woman status through my boobs.

Ah. Good times.

Anywho back to the situation.

There I was. Standing. Alone in a field of dead, yellow grass. A sword. Much too heavy for me to lift since I had done _no _upper body training _at all _before I ended up here, and my triceps were about as real as a T-Rex.

And apparently, as a rule of thumb, Boromir's sword _had_ to weigh a fourth of his body weight if he was to be able to swing it correctly. And decapitate orcs while he was at it. That last bit was very important and about one third of the reason I was standing by myself facing off two competent swordsmen.

Liability my ass! By the time I was done, Boromir would be walking away with a missing left nut!

While I listened to the two jokers go on about the history of the sword, how to respect the sword, how to go about _making _my sword, I started daydreaming about my epic victories over them. Ha! They won't know what hit them.

I've been told I'm a fast learner.

Aragorn had gotten into his head that he should be the first one to teach me after Boromir's ungentlemanly statement. Which made me snort. Hell, my thirteen year old siblings have said worse to me. Aragorn was such a saint it gave me a tooth ache. I should teach him the f* word.

I perked up. Hey, now _that _was an idea. Tell people that the f* word was a compliment then laugh my ass off when they said it to each other. Wait. Maybe if I _did_ introduce the word as a compliment, it would actually _be _a compliment since I was the only person who knew what it really meant.

That's messed up.

Shaking my head I tried to focus. Sword. Aragorn. Ignore smirking Boromir. Right.

Aragorn was holding his sword like it was the easiest thing in the world. Showoff. How the _hell _was I supposed to copy _that?_

He began by gesturing to the way he was holding his sword and fixing the incorrect positions I made on the handle.

There was a lot of, "You're not handling it right," which I _had _to add 'That's what she said,' and some "Don't swing it like an ax!" which ended up being a statement that was liberally sprinkled in between the exasperated sighs. Aragorn took great offense to my ax swinging natural abilities. It was all about feeling the sword as an extension of my arm with him.

Well, I _could_ make it an extension of my arm if it didn't bloody well weigh the same amount _I _did!

Gimli approved of my methods. Since he carried an ax and all. Why wasn't _he_ bloody teaching me then?

After two hours of pure hell, Aragorn grudgingly admitted that instead of dying within the first 30 seconds of a battle I would survive _at least_ two minutes before kicking it.

Skillz you're awesome!

Boromir had just shaken his head in my direction like he was picturing the _exact_ way I was going to go.

Love you too Boromir.


	3. In which the 10th Walker Goes to Moria I

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings

* * *

It was frickin freezing.

Whomever said that old people were wise was probably old himself and off his bloody rocker.

After a bunch of crows had been spotted in the distance of our campsite and caused everyone to have a fit, Gandalf decreed that those bird brains posed a threat and that the mountain was our best bet.

When he had pointed to the monstrosity behind him I had started laughing. Ah good ol'Gandalf. Who knew there was a sense of humor lurking underneath all that grey hair? Wiping away a few tears that had escaped I had wandered over and patted Gandalf on the arm, "Thanks for that. I needed a good laugh. So seriously, should we get going on the dirt trail?"

When Gandalf had just stared at me after my outburst I had stared back. It went on for so long that we almost had a moment. When nothing happened I shrugged and started off on the barely visible trail we had been walking on for God knew how long. My feet had so many blisters by now that I had started naming them.

MotherF* was currently my favorite blister.

"And where do you think you're going?" Gandalf's voice boomed behind me making me jump.

Turning back to him I pointed stupidly at him and said, "You're asking me that? I have no idea where the hell we're going! All these rolling hills and flat plains look the same and I swear we've past that rock at _least_three times. I'm following you. So go on, get in front of me so I can continue following." I made a shooing motion with my hands in case he didn't understand.

"We are crossing the mountain. Now quit acting like a child and come!" And without a by your leave, Gandalf turned and started to make his way to the base of what I now affectionately call Frigid Bitch.

"YOU WERE SERIOUS?!"

* * *

"Gandalf I'm going to kill you!" I shouted at the grey blob bobbing a couple of people in front of me. Although since my teeth were chattering at the speed and consistency of a drill, and I'm 100 positive that I managed to chip a tooth, my threat came out more like: G-g-g-an-d-d-al-f-f-f-f-f … kil-l-l-l-l-l-l … y-y-y-y-ou!

"Gandalf! We need to get off the mountain!" Aragorn to the rescue. Thank the Lord. I nodded my head in full support of Aragorn's statement, but it was probably not noticeable since my whole body was shaking.

The only one of us that ambling along like he was going for a stroll was Legolas. The hippy was practically floating above the snow and somehow his hair magically managed to stay perfect. I was sure I looked like a drowned poodle and my wet clothes were chafing in places that should not be chafed.

When he mentioned a foul voice upon the wind I could have punched him if I were close enough. And if I could curl my fingers into a fist. Now was _not _the time for hippy poetry!

The poor hobbits were so small that they would have been buried alive if not for Boromir and Aragorn hefting two of them under each arm like sacks of potatoes. I wasn't too sure how well hobbits could adapt to the cold, but from all the stories they told me of the Shire it sounded like they got as much snow as the Sahara Desert.

"No! We must continue onward!"

"Gandalf let us go to Moria. My cousin will gladly welcome us. Let us go through the mines." Gimli wasn't doing much better than the hobbits being buried wise, and was the only one who didn't have a slight stutter when he talked. All that fuzz on his face probably made good insulin.

Then his sentence sunk in.

_What! _Gimli had a cousin that would feed us and keep us warm! And we would be going through the mountains instead of over! Old age had definitely fried all of Gandalf's brain cells. I'll admit I had a moment of weakness daydreaming about pushing Gandalf off the mountain. It would be _so easy_ to make it look like an accident.

I snapped out of it when Gandalf left the decision to Frodo. His response to go under the mountain sounded like a choir of angels and I will swear until my dying day that a beam of light had managed to land on him for like five seconds.

Everyone looked relieved except Gandalf. Well if the old coot wanted to permanently freeze off his dangly bits no one was stopping him.

Situations like these made me _sooo_ glad I was a woman.

Although I hadn't been able to feel my boobs for like two hours now.

Oh well. At least I could still have kids. I'm pretty sure the guys were experiencing permanent damage by this point. Nature's vasectomy.

I _almost _contemplated just falling forward and rolling down the mountain like a giant snowball, but I was pretty sure the guys wouldn't stick around to dig me out. Especially Boromir. I really needed to work on his doom and gloom. Talk about being a pessimist.

The journey back down was _much _quicker. Partially because a) we had already pushed all of the snow out of the way and b) we practically ran back down Frigid Bitch.

So after all that we pretty much ended up exactly where we began. Sheesh talk about six hours of my life I'm never getting back. Gimli was all smiles and chatting as Gandalf took the lead _again_ and brought us to a random dead end somewhere on the left side of Frigid Bitch.

Two thoughts ran through my head when we stopped. Ok, well three. One was why was Gandalf leading when supposedly Gimli's cousin lived here, shouldn't he know where the hell to go? Two, if Gandalf made another piss poor leading decision I was peacing. The dude was going two for two. And third, holy hell did we stink.

I eyed the murky looking pond to our right weighing the pros and cons about attempting to bathe. I stroked my chin as I eyeballed it. In the end I decided against it. Those that smelled together flocked together I believe the quote goes. Besides knowing my luck the Lock Ness Monster lived in there or something.

I turned my attention back to Gandalf as he attempted to hug the wall in front of him muttering under his breath. Somehow it didn't come as a surprise that Gandalf and the hippy were in cahoots. That twinkle in his eye was probably an indicator of when he was high.

"What'cha doing?"

"Looking for the door. Dwarven doors are invisible unless you know where to look."

"Man talk about the perfect way to avoid your neighbors." _*Snort_

I could tell that Boromir wanted to say something about my un lady-like noise but he was interrupted when the wall in front of us began to glow. My jaw dropped.

"Why is the wall glowing?"

"It is the moon my dear," Gandalf replied, all smiles now that something had happened. "The writing can apparently be only seen by moonlight and starlight."

Wow. These dwarves _really_ don't want visitors do they?

"What does it say?," asked Frodo. I was about to ask what he was talking about when I saw him looking at the squiggles in the arch that was above the vine things. Those were words? Looked like chicken scratch to me.

"It says 'Speak friend and enter.' If you know the password you speak it and the doors will open."

Yah Gandalf that sounded _so _simple. Passwords weren't secret or anything. Nope. Well at least Gimli should know it.

I turned to him and asked. He in turn looked sheepishly at me from behind his pipe and muttered something along the lines of never having actually been _in _Moria.

What the heck made him so certain that this distant cousin was going to welcome us with open arms then?

"You have _got _to be kidding me."

Gandalf was behind me spouting gibberish while I turned the full force of my glare on the dwarf. Well at least now I knew it was official. I was the only one in this group of men that had a brain. Who knew that testosterone poisoning actually happened? Well ladies and gents here was the proof.

Rubbing my hands together I went over and pushed Gandalf aside. Spreading my arms wide I shouted, "Open Sesame!"

Nada.

"Well that's all I got."

I went and sat down next to Boromir who was perfecting his brooding skills while puffing away at his pipe. Absentmindedly I stared at the whips of smoke that curled around his head when I started wondering what was so good about the weed that the men smoked it every chance they got.

Personally I was also in awe over how they managed to be so athletic with their bad habit. They _had _to have been smoking _at least _two packs a day. And not a one of them had asthma. Or lung cancer.

Curiosity overtook me and I yanked the pipe out from between Boromir's teeth hearing them clack together as I shoved the end in my mouth and inhaled like I had just surfaced from drowning.

Boromir let out a yelp and grabbed his pipe back as I hacked and chocked. The smoke had _burned _going down and I was sure I could hear my lungs squealing in agony. Tears streamed down my face as I pounded my chest and I could just picture the attractive shade of red my face was as I tried to hack out my left lung.

Just when I was sure I was going to pass out someone placed a hand between my shoulder blades and shoved my head between my knees.

Oh hey! That actually works.

It took me a couple more minutes before I could properly breathe again and look around without tears blurring my vision.

Boromir had gone back to smoking his pipe when I noticed that it was his hand that was on my back.

I managed to cough out a "Thanks!" to which the bastard smirked at. But I calmed down when I saw the teeny, tiny glimmer of concern in his eyes.

Oh so there was some good there. Awesome.

I hacked one last time and turned my head to spit. Boromir quickly stopped touching me after that.

Gandalf, the old fart, had barely glanced in my direction as I almost _died!_ He was too busy staring at the stupid wall.

Everyone else had the decency to look mildly concerned.

Except the hippy. He was smirking at me even though his facial expressions never twitched. I just knew it. Probably thought it was payback to my nickname for him.

After everything had calmed down I decided that if I couldn't smoke like Boromir, I would brood like Boromir. Placing my hand under my chin I stared at the glowing wall. It really was quite beautiful.

For some reason the name Moria niggled in the back of my mind. There was something, something … something important.

Man how long was it since I had last watched the movies?

I shrugged when nothing came to me. If it were _really _important I'm sure I would remember.

Frodo proved me wrong about the men not having a brain in this group when he figured out the riddle. Well, let me correct that. _He_ at least had a quarter of a brain.

Gimli started going on and on about beer and food that I felt myself salivating and had to discreetly wipe at my chin just to make sure I wasn't drooling or doing anything else un lady-like.

Of course we quickly discovered that beer was not on tonight's menu.

I almost face-planted into the rib cage of some dwarf when I tripped over a femur in my rush to get some meat. Well I think it was a femur. Wasn't about to go back and confirm it or anything. It was definitely a bone though.

Boromir had managed to grab the back of my shirt before that traumatizing event happened though.

The hippy managed to show his amazing powers of observation when he exclaimed, "This is not a tunnel, it is a tomb!"

No shit captain obvious. Was it the piles of bones that gave it away?

Murphy's law then went into full effect and shit hit the fan.

Frodo let out a yelp as he rapidly slid across the floor and back out onto the trail. Not too sure how he did that, but the little dude had the right idea.

Standing up I raced over to the doorway when I suddenly halted. Aragorn almost bowled me over in his haste to get out. I was too busy pointing to notice.

"OH MY GOD IT'S NESSY!"

Which was the completely inappropriate, but first thought that crossed my mind when I saw the Kraken wanabe inching out of the pond like a deformed slug.

Hey it had to be said.

The next few minutes involved a lot of shouts, metal flashing, watery squeals, and general mayhem.

Everyone managed to make it back into the tomb, as Legolas so aptly put it, before the entranceway experienced a mini earthquake and became blocked.

As the dust settled the only thing that could be heard was everyone panting. Ah, there was the asthma taking effect. I knew it.

Seeing, well not really, that I couldn't see my hand even when I held it three centimeters from my nose I broke the silence with,

"Sooo does anyone have a flashlight?


	4. In Which the 10th Walker Goes to Moria 2

I love reviews! Thanks to all who've left reviews so far. Keeps my tenth walker walking!

Oh and BTW I have no idea if what Gandalf or the other characters keep saying is accurate. This is pure memory.

Disclaimer: I do not own the trademarks/patents to: Lord of the Rings, flashlights, Nike, Mutant Ninja Turtles, Dobby or anything else that isn't mine.

* * *

After the long, winded conversation of what a flashlight was, which got us nowhere, Gandalf pulled something from somewhere and attached a light bulb to the top of his staff.

To which I had pointed at and said, "You had a flashlight all along and you were holding out!?"

"I do not have a flashlight, whatever that is, and it would do you good to _pipe down! _There are things darker than orcs that live in the deep."

Wow Gandalf. Good job. Now I'll _definitely _be able to sleep tonight. Totally reassuring.

What the heck are orcs?

Gandalf once again took the lead and I made a mental note that this was his last chance. Three strikes and you are _out _buddy.

Apparently, according to our guide, it would take four days to travel through Moria. Sheesh if it was going to take that long to walk _through _it I didn't want to contemplate how long it would have taken to go _over _it. And in the cold! I probably would have died of hypothermia by now. As it was, I couldn't guarantee that all my toes were accounted for. Nike apparently forgot to advertise that it didn't do so well against blizzards.

So we spent the day … night … whatever it was traveling through tunnels and bridges and archways that looked exactly like the first tunnel, bridge and archway we had passed. If we were wandering in circles I would kill the coot. Dying from starvation and lack of water was not on my list of ways to die.

Not that I really had a list, but if I did this would definitely _not _be on it. Talk about uncomfortable.

We made camp at a random spot that Gandalf declared was a good place to rest. Because, you know, those broken bits of rock were so soft and inviting.

I did however end up with my back curled against one. It was either that or roll off the edge and fall forever in the dark .And I tossed and turned in my sleep so it was a high possibility for me.

I had dropped a rock over the side and counted how long it took to hit the bottom. Just out of curiosity to see how far down it went.

I am still counting.

Anywho the minute we had sat down, out came the pipes. Frodo and Gandalf were off muttering to one another a fair distance from the group and I wasn't trying to eavesdrop or anything, but there was nothing to do around here. I did hear that we were being followed though and _that _had made me sit up with a, "What!"

Gandalf, for once, didn't respond with a sass attack but tilted his head in a clear invitation to come over. Scuttling over I whispered once I got into their little huddle, "Something's following us?" Gandalf just took his pipe out of his mouth and gestured to something clinging to a grate about three hundred feet below us.

Holy hell Dobby was stalking us.

"Dobby!?"

"I do not know what a Doobe is, but that is Gollum. He was in possession of the Ring before Bilbo managed to find it."

Oh. Oh yah! Gollum! The little weirdo that had schizophrenia or multiple personality disorder, who humped the Ring in dark caverns and followed Frodo like a stalker until he deep fried.

Deep fried. Why do I have the feeling that should remind me of something? Ugh! The hunger! Chicken_*drool_

"Ummmm, is it safe to fall asleep?"

"No. But we must if we are to conserve our strength."

Pause.

"Gandalf I hate to break it to ya buddy, but you are easily the world's shittiest comforter."

"Women should not speak thusly."

"Shove a pipe in it Boromir."

* * *

"Just so everyone knows, I _did not _sleep well last night."

"Congratulations."

"Oh My God! Was that a joke Boromir?!"

"Quiet!"

"Touchy."

* * *

By day three, or what I thought was day three, I officially gave up on Gandalf. I _knew_ he was leading us around in circles. This really became evident when he stopped, looked at the three or so tunnels in front of us and said, "I do not recognize this place." Well join the club buddy. No one else does either.

Everyone then sat down, whipped out their trusty pipes and waited around for Gandalf to pull a solution out of his ass.

Where the hell did they store all that tobacco? Better yet, when did they have matches in Middle Earth to light their pipes?

After about thirty minutes of Gandalf not even staring at the tunnels, he suddenly got up, put away his pipe, said, "This way," and walked off down a random tunnel. The others quickly stuffed their pipes and followed suit. I brought up the rear with a well deserved, "What the hell just happened?"

We walked down the tunnel, following Gandalf's not a flashlight when, unsurprisingly, he led us to a dead end. Strike three dude. Strike three. This dead end was different from all the other dead ends that he led us down thus far, however. For one there was a beam of light, which was greatly appreciated, let me tell you, for another, Gimli lost it. Apparently that white hunk of stone was important.

Whoops. Turns out it was the distant cousin that was supposed to welcome us with beef and booze.

Didn't think that men here allowed themselves to cry with the whole: Me man, you woman, me hunt, you pop babies mentality they got going on. Guess that only pertained to men and not dwarves. Go figure.

As Gimli tried to become one with a hunk of stone, Gandalf had wandered over to one of the many skeletons that were lying around. This skeleton was the only one that wasn't holding a sword, but a book. The old fart didn't even flinch when he reached down a pried the book from someone's , literal, cold, dead hands. Poor dude probably thought that as well when he kicked it going from the tight grip the skeleton got going on there. Talk about irony.

As Gimli wailed in the background Gandalf put on his best badass voice and started reading from the chicken scratch book.

"We have barred the gate. They have taken the second hall. We cannot get out. We have barred the room. We cannot get out," dramatic pause, "They are coming!"

CRASH!

I'm not ashamed to admit that I jumped five feet, lost seven years off of my life, and clung to Boromir's broad back like an indignant wet cat.

"Fool of a Took! Throw yourself down next time to save us the trouble of your stupidity." Ooh, harsh.

"Get. Off."

"Sorry."

As I was about to climb off of Boromir's back and thumping sounded from somewhere and since this place was as empty as my stomach, it echoed. And it was waaaayyy to rhythmic.

"Um I think I'll stay up here for now. Thanks."

"Get off! I need to move if we have to fight." That was a pretty legit reason to get off.

"What should I do?"

"Stay out of the way!"

"No shit Sherlock! Where?!"

"Go hide by the tomb!" and with that Borormir shoved me in the direction of Gimli's dead relative. During our little argument the others had been gathering up all the wood they could find, which wasn't a lot since we were under a mountain, to board up the two pieces of rotted wood that had once been doors.

There was a scratching sound that came from behind the mish mash of wood that sounded like the ginormous, mutant ninja turtle sifu rats that lived in the NYC subways were crawling about on the other side. Ugh. The shudder that went down my back made me look like I was having a seizure. Rats. Disgusting.

For a second there was no sound. Then something that looked like it got shitted out of an Angler Fish reached through one of the weak points of the barrier.

I had to bite my hand to stop from yelling. Just looking at that thing made me feel like I contracted a STD. A second later the STD fell back with a scream and an arrow sticking out of its chest.

Apparently those bows and arrows the hippy totted around weren't just for show. He whipped one off his back and fired it so quickly that if I had blinked I would have missed it. Ok so I had to grudgingly admit he may have not been _as _much of a tree hugger as I originally thought.

He was still a hippy.

And not like it surprised anyone, but the make shift barrier fell in under a minute and we were swarmed by gonorrhea, syphilis and the rest of STD's bros. I had to fight down a gag. The guys fought gallantly, even the hobbits, and Gandalf was swinging his staff around like he was Jackie Chan. I more or less tried to make myself as inconspicuous as possible since I didn't have a sword, shield, bow and arrows or any discernable fighting skills. I was about as useful as a lump on a log.

Then, as if it couldn't get _any_ better, grannie's massive nose wart came and joined the party.

The fight felt like it dragged on forever, but in actuality it took less than three minutes. Especially since we all had that moment where we thought Frodo had become Troll Kabob. Turns out he is a little shit who keeps secrets and lets people worry over him needlessly. Sam had looked like he was going to fall on his sword in some form of seppuku when we thought Frodo had kicked it.

Then Gandalf was pushing us from the room and out down _another _tunnel until we spilled out into a massive hall.

Dam! The pyramids had _nothing_ on this.

Before I could gap like the tourist I was, Gandalf had the company sprint down the stretch like we were trying to qualify for the Olympics. Despite the fact that Borormir had been a tool in the beginning and I had the world's largest stitch forming in my side, he made sure I didn't fall behind the company.

If we get out of this alive I will never pester Boromir again!

Maybe.

Ummm, I may have to think of something different.

It quickly became apparent that the only way we were getting out was in body bags so I sent a short prayer up to God that I took an arrow in the eye and died quickly.

Right when I was about to think that I would never get to have sex, a booming started from the far end of the hall. All the STD's were starting to look nervous and by the third boom they turned tail and ran back up the pillars. Gimli started to laugh in triumph and I went to turn around to chew him out since whatever it was scared the STD's away was probably _a lot _worse than the STD's when light broke out from where the booms were coming from.

Which was the exact moment that I remembered the fiery, bat, cow, demon thing that ends up snuffing Gandalf.

"HOLY SHIT!"

I had turned tail and ran before Gandalf could start his whole time wasting spiel about how this enemy was too great for them to handle, blah, blah, blah. The others had startled at my shout and sprint, but quickly caught up.

Boromir outpaced us and almost took a swan dive off the short drop and sudden stop before the hippy grabbed him and dragged him back. Since I was vaguely aware of the path we needed to take I hadn't hesitated and made a right once I had hit the doorway by passing the pile of limbs.

Then we hit the gap.

Hippy hopped over it like he was an effin rabbit and had turned around with his arms out to catch someone as Gandalf landed beside him in a flutter of robes and beard. And since we couldn't get a brake the STD's decided they were safe in the alcoves and had started shooting arrows at us. One had passed my cheek and took some hair with it before I knew what was going on.

Before I could screech over my loss of hair, someone shoved me in the back and I flopped forward like a drunk into Legolas' arms who then shoved be back and turned to catch another. Boromir managed to make the jump with Sam under his arm after he had shoved the other two hobbits into the hippy.

God I would need to take up a running schedule when we got out. I am _out of shape_.

When Gimli made the jump some of the rocks behind him crumbled and widened the gap which had forced the hippy to grab onto his beard so he wouldn't fall backwards. I grabbed the side of my head in loss of hair sympathy.

Which left Aragorn and Frodo on the other side. I'll admit things were looking a little hairy since there was no way they could make it unless Aragorn sprouted wings or grew ten feet in the next couple of seconds. And then, in answer to all our prayers, some rock fell behind them, severed the staircase and they magically managed to direct the hulking piece of stone to where the rest of us were before hopping off and continuing on our run.

We were running along side an impossible drop when Gandalf pointed with his staff and shouted, "The Bridge!"

The bridge looked like it was the width of a tooth pick and didn't have railings to stop any klutz' from stumbling off the edge. Didn't the dwarves have safety regulations? I mean seriously. Some kid would dive_right_ off that.

Everyone managed to make it across with no incident. I had hummed _don't look down, don't look down, don't look down _the entire distance. When I landed on the other side I saw that Gandalf was taking the rear and had foolishly stopped on the bridge to fight the flaming cow.

As if I needed further proof that Gandalf had no brain cells.

God the cow was uglier up close. And hotter. Ugh I hate the heat.

Gandalf had whipped out his badass voice again. For some reason he told the thing all his credentials before shouting,

"YOU SHALL NOT PASS!"

The kinda tuffled for a bit before Gandalf yelled it again and slammed his staff on the bridge. It made a loud noise and dust shock waved from the point of impact and I looked on to see what the hell it was he did.

Which turned out to be a big, fat nothing. Even the cow snorted in disbelief. Wasn't Gandalf supposed to be a wizard or some shit? I could have done that!

The cow then took a step forward and fell. I had to rub my eyes for a second, but … hot dam would you look at that! Gandalf defeated the cow.

And then the whip wrapped around his ankle, Gandalf fell, I suddenly remembered and he yelled out , "Fly you fools!" before letting go and falling.

Frodo started screaming and Aragorn had to hold him back from wandering back out onto the bridge as I gapped in disbelief over what I had just seen. It was _much_ more awful in real life than the movies.

Boromir hustled the other hobbits and myself out as I tried blinking away the tears over Gandalf's death. Man now I was _really _feeling bad for all the times I called him an old fart.

Everyone stumbled out of that god forsaken mountain and glanced around in a daze before Aragorn forced us to keep moving since apparently the hills would be swarming with the STD's by nightfall.

It wasn't until later when we had collapsed around our camp fire that I remembered Gandalf came back like Jesus, all pearly white and more wise, eventually. That stopped my feeling bad over him in a heartbeat.

Dam! Gandalf really was an old fart. Couldn't even die correctly could he?

Boy were the others confused when I stopped crying.


	5. The 10th Walker and Sleeping Elves

I am having a lot of fun with this.

The usual disclaimers apply.

Review! - And to answer Quiet Hiker's question: No she doesn't have a name. Not too sure if I'm going to give her one or not.

* * *

For some reason that totally goes against everything I stand for, when it comes to mornings, I woke up at the crack of dawn.

Now usually everyone was naturally getting up at this time, putting camp away, and designating Boromir to be the poor, unfortunate soul in charge of getting me up.

Our battles are pretty epic and usually go along the lines of:

"Get up!"

"Screw you!"

*Tussle with the flimsy blanket

"I'm not wearing a bra!"

"What in Gondor's name is a bra?!"

"Go away you heathen! The sun's not even _up _yet!"

"The sun _is_ up you she-beast!"

And so on and so forth.

There _was_ one battle though that I will look back on with fond, fond memories. I had managed to trip Boromir with what I credit to my epic karate kid ninja skills and we ended up wrestling a bit since he kinda fell _on _me instead of backwards like I had intended, before I accidentally … sorta … not really, kneed him in the family jewels. All the other guys had looked on in horrified silence when Boromir curled up next to me and moaned for about five minutes. Even the hippy had shifted.

Serves him right for trying to get me up. None of the others would make eye contact that day and avoided coming in arms distance length of any part of me. That's right dudes. I am woman. Hear me roar.

Back to my current source of pain. It's not like it's enough that I sleep in the same clothes I run around and sweat in, and haven't been able to change since I got here, sleep on every rock imaginable that becomes a literal pain in my ass, have a flimsy blanket that did jack shit against the cold, but _now_ I wake up at the ass crack of dawn?

No! No way! Whoever up there that hates me go pick on someone else!

Tossing and turning, I tried to ignore the sliver of sunlight creeping over the horizon and get back to sleep. After five minutes of Jedi-mind tricking my body to fall asleep, which didn't work, I huffed out a sigh that came from the very depths of my sleep deprived soul.

Sitting up I glanced around to see the status of the others. For once no one was moving, and if I'm going to be truthful, it kinda freaked me out. Why wasn't anyone moving?

Shuffling over to Boromir I held a hand under his nose to see if he was still breathing. Yep, felt a warm puff of air. All's good. It then occurred to me, as I sat there and stared at him like a creeper, that _I _could wake up Boromir instead of having it the other way around.

The smile that split my face would have given children nightmares.

As I contemplated various means of waking up my favorite Fellowship member, the one I was leaning towards was hovering over him on my hands and knees and have him wake up to my creepy smile, I randomly glanced over to the hippy. Didn't elves rise with the sun or some shit? Or was it the moon?

Eh.

Which was when I almost had a honest to God heart attack. Everyone is sooo lucky that I don't scream when startled or scared, but freeze up instead. Considering how close I was to Boromir, and seeing the way he hugged his sword in his sleep, I would have been shish-kabob if I yelped. Which made me glad, when I look back on it, that I don't scream as well.

The hippy was sleeping like a corpse! Literally.

Arms were crossed over his chest like how they arrange dead people in wakes and his eyes WERE WIDE OPEN!

WIDE OPEN!

Holy crap, the hippy died in his sleep!

All thoughts of waking Boromir flew from my head as I scrambled over to Legolas. Ok, so maybe we weren't on the _best _of terms, but that didn't mean I wanted him to die! He was the butt of practically all my jokes!

In all serious though, I didn't want the dude to die. I think he had some important purpose involving something being built sometime after Frodo single handily saves the world. I think. It didn't even matter if he_did _have to do something cause he couldn't do it if he was _dead!_

Hovering my hands over him in a completely useless gesture I tried to picture all those CPR posters they have hanging around everywhere. Something, something, pinch the nose, shove air down the lungs, something about punching the chest … Ugh! I didn't study medicine in college! I studied finance! Which turned out to be useless here in backwards land.

And with that last thought, and my semi-remembrance of CPR posters, I pinched his nose and took in a deep breath before I medically made out with him.

Someone let out a strangled chocking sound behind me, but I was too busy sitting back up to punch Legolas' chest to notice.

Who jackknifed up the second after I punched him and whacked his hard head into my equally, if not moreso, hard head, when I leaned down to give mouth-to-mouth again.

"Ow! You _ungrateful bastard!_" That was going to bruise.

"What is going on?"

"Is something the matter?"

"Boromir are you ok?"

What? Which idiot was asking Boromir if _he _was ok? I was the one in agony here!

"She molested Legolas' in his sleep!"

_That _made me forget the pain in my chin in an instant.

"What! No I didn't, you little shit. I was giving him CPR! He died! In his sleep! He looked like a _corpse_ when I woke up!" Turning to the hippy I said, "You're welcome with me saving your pasty hide and all." He just sat there and stared back at me blankly. Prick.

Before Boromir could open his fat mouth and rile me up further, Aragorn diplomatically cut in and asked, "Were you unaware that Elves sleep with their eyes open?"

"No, of _course not _Aragorn. I always react like that when I see someone sleep like that. It's a pet peeve of mine. OF COURSE you _moron!_ I did _not _know that Elves were creepy sleepers." Gesturing towards the hippy with an indignant expression I continued, "I just lost five years off my life due to his stupid stunt! You pricks are lucky I care so much!" My chin throbbed in agreement.

"_Lucky?"_

"Stuff it Boromir. I'm not talking to you right now. You're on my cold shoulder list."

Silence.

"See if I go and help you guys any time soon."

"If only we could be so lucky."

There's my shoulder Boromir and it's currently colder than Frigid Bitch. Suck it.

"What's a prick?"

* * *

About four hours later it randomly occurred to me that I probably stole Legolas' first kiss. Inadvertently.

FML.


	6. In Which the 10th Walker Meets Galadriel

This one is more serious than the others. It has some funny elements to it, but I've been thinking I might do a spin off of these one-shots and create a humorous adventure following the storyline with my 10th walker. This is kinda a foray into this idea. Let me know if I should do something like that or just continue with my one-shots.

And in case no one has noticed, Boromir is one of my favs. Even though he gets a little bit of a bad rep. And I like Legolas, truly.

Usual disclaimers: I do not own LotR, nor the X-Men.

Review!

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After Gandalf's whole, 'let me turn my back on the enemy and therefore fall forever,' thing we managed to make it to some woods called Lothlorin or something.

Gimli had managed to tone down everyone's nerves with a "They say a witch lives in these woods. She ensnares the mind, confounds the senses and many that walk into these woods never come out."

Thanks Gimli. Let's discuss dangerous enemies we have no chance in hell to beat now that our most powerful ally is dead.

Of course after Gimli managed to dis the woman I later found out runs this whole shebang, her guards sprang up from literally _nowhere_ and surrounded us with lots of pointy arrows aimed at pretty vulnerable areas. Like our faces.

"The dwarf breathes so loud we could've shot him in the dark." _Burn._

Taking a glance at the dude who appeared to be the head guard or something I found myself unable to look away. I've finally (sorta) seen it all, because the tree hugger known as Haldir was the manliest looking elf going. Which I would_never_ in a hundred years inform him of, since I'm quite positive it would literally be the last thing I do. Don't think I would even be able to finish the statement, let alone walk away with my life.

(I did, however, tell Boromir that they could be brothers since I became aware of his dislike for elves early on and I knew it would piss him off to high heaven being compared to one. The fact that I was a woman appeared to be the only thing keeping my head firmly attached to my shoulders judging by the glare he sent my way and the unattractive red his face turned.)

Aragorn managed to diffuse the situation as our official diffuser of situations. Didn't envy him _that _job let me tell you. Somehow babysitting adults seemed ten times harder than babysitting brats.

Got my first foray into species racism too, which was a new one. Didn't think I would ever say it … or, you know, experience it. Haldir wanted everyone except Legolas and Aragorn to wear blind folds going into the woods in which Gimli continued to get on the elves good side with all the complimentary things he shouted at Haldir.

I just kinda stood there amused. Wouldja look at that. Not even the elves were perfect.

Aragorn _again _diffused the situation by stating all of the Fellowship was to wear blindfolds or none. I raised my hand at that and put in my two cents of, "Does this mean _I _don't have to wear one? I'm not part of the Fellowship."

Before I knew it there was an arrow located half an inch from my nose which made me dizzy as I stared at it cross-eyed followed by the semi-alarmed statement of, "Not a part of the Fellowship from Rivendel?!"

From the corner of my cross-eyed stare I managed to see Aragorn's face twist into a grimace like he was fighting off the world's worst migraine. Internally I winced. Whoops. Mentally I apologized to him for making his life _more _of a living hell, but it was a legit question. I wouldn't trust these elves as far as I could throw them and judging by their size I wouldn't be able to knock them over, never mind throw them.

Aragorn raised his hands in the universal sign of 'don't shoot me,' and said, "Peace Haldir. She is of no threat to you. She is not of the original nine, but she is a part of our group. Gandalf has vouched for her."

Smooth Aragorn. Little white lies never hurt anyone. The way that conversation had _really _gone down was more like, "The girl is obviously un-athletic and it is doubtful she could lift a sword never mind pull back the string of a bow. She is of no threat to us and can be easily dealt with if need be."

Which I guess was the same thing. Gandalf had ended up on my colder shoulder list for _that_ little spiel however. Grandfatherly persona _my ass!_

"Very well. Come, the Lady of the Wood desires to meet with you."

On went the blindfolds.

Gimli grumbled the entire time and if I could have seen him I would have kicked him. Now I knew how everyone felt when _I_ bitched.

Everyone walked in a single file following Haldir's voice. Well most everyone walked. I'm pretty sure I stumbled around like a drunk and would have flopped into a tree after tripping over a root if one of the guard elves hadn't grabbed my arm.

"You're not a very coordinated human are you?" There was Haldir.

Lifting a hand in the direction of his voice I gave him the one finger salute. Which didn't mean jack to anyone here in Middle Earth, but it made me feel better all the same. I got the feeling though that Haldir recognized it wasn't complimentary.

Me: 1. Haldir: 0.

Walking around blindfolded was an odd experience. You knew you were moving, but it didn't really feel like moving since you couldn't see a bloody thing.

Eventually we stopped and our blindfolds ripped off. I had to squint against the sudden white light that surrounded the platform we were standing on. Haldir stood off to the side with the rest of his posse as an elegant couple practically glided down to meet us.

After her little speech it occurred to me that everyone in this world liked to state the obvious. No shit Gandalf wasn't with us, he was the only old fart in our group besides Legolas.

What happened next would apparently go down in Lorthorien history. Or so I've been told.

The Light Lady, or whatever her name was, continued to speak, but when she glanced over at me I had the biggest fright of my life. Which was pretty impressive since we faced the flaming cow and everything.

Her voice echoed throughout my head, saying one thing while she physically said another.

I almost toppled off of the platform, which I found out five minutes later was in the effin _trees_, while shouting, "HOLY SHIT!"

All conversation ceased at that.

Pointing a finger at the white lady I continued semi-yelling. Haldir didn't look too happy about that.

"She's pulling a Professor X! Stay _out_ of my head you creeper!"

Everyone's jaw practically dropped after my little announcement and the dude standing next to the creepy lady appeared to be calming himself down.

"You shall not speak to my wife thusly."

In an odd moment of courage, one which I looked back on and had a mild panic attack over that Boromir had to help me with, I responded, "I will speak in any way that I want _pal_. She is not allowed inside my head. She has no right!' Turning to her I continued with, "Try that again and I'll see if those telepathy exercises in those cartoons _actually _work!"

Silence.

For some reason, Boromir had looked my way with a grateful expression on his face.

Then the creepy lady did something even creepier. She _smiled _in my direction. _Effin smiled._

I have never been more weirded out in my life.

"Very well child," the child tackled onto that had me bristling, "I will stay out of your head of you so desire."

"You better."

And that was apparently the end of that, since creeper turned around in a dismissal.

When we were dropped off at our tree house, Legolas rounded on me with full elven, righteous fury.

"The Lady Galadriel deserves your _full _respect! Never in my life have I ever seen such blatant disregard for the Keepers of the Golden Wood!" I'm sure he would have kept going if my own righteous fury didn't spring up at that point and cut him off.

"_Look_ hippy. I understand that tree hungers have to stick together and all, but her _blatant _violation of my mind is _not_something that I'm going to take like a whipped bitch! _You _may be happy knowing that she's looking into your most private thoughts and secret desires, but that is _no bueno _with me. _Savvy?!_ If she pulls something like _that again _I'll show her images from my world that would make her cry!"

And with that I turned around, fully intending to march off in order to cool down, when I was rudely reminded that we were in a tree. With an angry snort, I turned around and marched behind Boromir, sitting down with my back against his calves and throwing out, "You're on my cold shoulder list _hippy_!" before shutting up.

Everyone else stood around in an awkward silence until Pippin broke it with questions about supper.

Legolas was apparently going to experience heart failure if he hung around me for one more second, so he took off without a by-your-leave. I could hear Aragorn sighing, again, and, again, I felt bad for him, but I wasn't going to back down on this.

After a moment Boromir sat down and pressed his back against mine. He waited around for a few minutes once everyone calmed down or was eating before saying, "Thank you."

Lifting my head from where it had been resting against my knees I let it thud against the spot between his shoulder blades and let out a "Huh?"

"For before, with the Lady of Light. She spoke in my head as well. Told me of the horrors that were to befall Gondor, made me feel insignificant, weak … violated. I'm glad you had no conniptions about standing up to her. Even though half the things you said were gibberish."

"Hey!"

We sat like that for a couple more minutes before Boromir asked if I wanted some food. Feeling my nod against his back, he got up and grabbed a couple things off the plates before the Hobbits could get to them and came back to his original position. Reaching around he waited until I grabbed it before focusing on his own dinner.

It had been around the second bite of some soft cheese and bread when it hit me that I back talked one of the most powerful people in Middle Earth.

I didn't see the six or so pairs of eyes turn in my direction nor hear the plate clatter to the floor and have grapes roll every which way to grape freedom.

I was too busy trying to pull in oxygen.

Boromir's plate joined mine after he realized what was happening, and I got to experience Déjà vu as he shoved my head between my knees for a second time.

Kinky.

"Breathe. Come on now. That's it, deep breathes."

I clung to Boromir's voice like it was a piece of driftwood and I was drowning. His statements were punctuated with soft, slow circular rubs between my soldier blades as I sucked in air, sounding like a beached whale.

After a moment, and when I felt like I could _breathe _again, I flopped my hand in Boromir's direction and squeaked out, "I'm good. I'm good."

"You are not 'good.' What brought this along then?"

"The fact that I just sass attacked one of the most powerful people in Middle Earth. It's allll good."

After a moment the reassuring warmth left my back as Boromir got up and began collecting our fallen bits of food.

Pippen and the other Hobbits were staring at me in alarm over the mountains of food on their plates and I managed to scrounge up a weak smile for their benefits. That calmed them down and Sam hesitantly smiled back before returning to his meal.

Strider just sat and puffed away at his pipe as he stared at me thoughtfully.

Wasn't he supposed to be the healer in our group? That slacker!

Gimli was the first to speak up once it became apparent I wasn't going to expire. "You ok there lass?"

I gave him the same weak smile I gave the Hobbits. "If I go for a walk and mysteriously go missing, assume the creepy lady killed me and morn me appropriately. I just want to say it's been a blast getting to know all of you. I had fun."

"Lady Galadriel will not kill you." Ah, the hippy was back.

"I'm pretty sure her husband would gladly, and easily, get rid of me after _that _display."

"Quite possibly, but I do not believe that Lady Galadriel would allow it." And that seemed like to closest I would get of an apology from the hippy.

"Very well." And that was the most he was getting out of me.

Later that night, when I was _positively_ sure that everyone was fast asleep, I shuffled over to Boromir and grabbed a handful of the corner of his cloak.

If someone was going to drag me out in the middle of the night to do away with me, I was going to wake up someone while they did it.


	7. The 10th Walker and the Restroom

Hey guys.

This one just popped into my head and I have an idea of what the next chapter will be.

As always the usual disclaimers apply.

Please review! I love reading them :)

* * *

There was one moment during my journey when it finally dawned on me that this was _not_ heaven.

And that moment was the first time I had to use the restroom. In the woods. Surrounded by men.

It was around the second morning of waking up in Middle Earth, and the day after my failed story attempt, when I realized the uncomfortable pressure in my lower stomach was _not_ in fact me having a deadly allergic reaction to a parasite located in the local drinking water. Which has so far always ended up being whatever we gathered from streams, ponds, and this one _really _desperate time from a sketchy, stagnant puddle.

It was gross, we were desperate. Don't ask. And I'm pretty sure I contracted a tape worm or something from drinking it.

Anyways as I sat there, lamenting over the fact that I would never get to go to the Breaking Benjamin concert I had bought tickets to, _four effin days ago!_, I became aware of this pressing need.

Everyone was breaking camp, rolling away their blankets and snuffing out the fire when I had stood up and casually made my way to the tree line to take care of my need.

Gandalf had put a right stop to that since he apparently had eyes in the back of his head like that school teacher in that Twilight Zone episode.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Cue everyone in camp staring at me.

So much for making a clean getaway.

"Ummm,"

"We are leaving. There isn't any time to deal with your flights of fancy. Get back here."

"Gandalf, my man, I just need to take care of something that involves me being _at least_ seven meters from the party. You dig?"

"I do not _dig._ Get back here and gather your pack."

Yep. That's right. When the slackers realized they had an additional back to load their crap on, they piled it up and gave it to me. Such gentlemen.

"Look dude, give me five minutes and we'll be on our way, ok!"

And with that I turned back in the direction of the trees, which wasn't really hard since we were, in fact, in a forrest, when I jumped and let out a shriek to find the hippy standing in front of me.

My old hurdle track couch would have been proud.

Placing a hand over my racing heart I glared at Legolas like he _hadn't _just given me the fright of my life. "Move hippy!"

"Gandalf has decreed that you shall not stray from the group."

Wasn't aware that Gandalf was the king here in our rag tag kingdom.

The pressure was starting to become uncomfortable.

Moving my hands from my chest I placed them on my hips in the pose that all women utilize when they take a no nonsense stance.

"Hippy, you have _five _seconds to move _out _of my way before I punch you in the throat."

Legolas just stared back apparently unimpressed with my threat. Ohhhh! I was going to punch him one of these days. Then he'll know not to mess with me. And the area _will not _be as nice as his throat.

I growled and stamped my foot on the ground like the grown up I was.

'_Look!_ Since all of you are _apparently _so concerned about _every_ effin move I make, I'm happy to inform all of you that I have to take a _piss. _Happy?"

Never thought I would see the day when an elf blushed. Or you know, ever see an elf period. And one that looked _amazingly _like Orlando Bloom with blue contacts and a blond wig.

Whomever directed the Lord of the Rings movies sure picked his actors well. Aragorn looked like he could be Viggo Mortensen's twin.

Which I'll admit made this whole falling into Middle Earth thing bearable. It was hard to be annoyed when surrounded by _so _much testosterone goodness.

Legolas wasn't the only one in the party to blush. Apparently, and I found this out _much _later, but none of the Fellowship, or any other man in Middle Earth apparently, had ever met someone as crude and outspoken as myself. I had laughed myself silly when Boromir told me that. They thought _this _was crude? If any of them went to a beach in my time I'm sure they would have strokes over all the skin displayed.

Ankles and necks and wrists oh my!

Gandalf was the only one not affected by my grand statement. I had a sneaking suspicion that he was actually an old pervert as well as being an old fart.

He just leaned against his staff and sighed like I was the biggest pain in his ass he had ever come across.

"Very well. If you _need_ to relieve yourself (_no _Gandalf I'm just telling everyone for shits and giggles) then go. Boromir will go with you in case something decides to attack." By the wistful way his voice had gotten near the end of that sentence I could tell he was thinking, _If only we should be so lucky._

Gandalf never seemed to be this mean in the movies. Wasn't he supposed to be a saint or something? Peace and love and all that? Screw you Gandalf. If I ever make it back I will have to write a letter to Ian McKelllen informing him that he was a _much _nicer Gandalf in the movies than the real Gandalf.

Or whatever the hell _this _was. Sheesh I was sounding like a loon. The _real _Gandalf.

Glancing at Boromir from the corner of my eye I gathered from his expression that he would have rather made out with Legolas then listen to me relieve myself. Well the feeling was the same bro.

As Boromir got up and tried to make his way as _slowly_ as possible towards me I lost it. "Dude! I _need_ to go _now!_ Move your ass!"

The glare he shot my way was pretty epic. And I'm sure that if he knew what the middle finger stood for he would have given me that as well. I just glowered back. It's not like _he _knew the epic goodness of the porcelain throne and toilet paper. _I_ was the one who was going to have to do without.

The very thought of that almost made me weep.

I don't know what the _hell _I was going to do when number two came a knocking. I will probably end up whipping myself with poison ivy or something.

When Boromir _finally _made his way towards me, I turned around and stomped off into the woods trying my very best to ignore him.

And in case we weren't aware of Gandalf's impatience he had said to our retreating backs, "Two minutes."

Thanks Gandalf.

We made our way to the designated seven meters from camp, I scuttled around the largest tree I could find and readied myself for take off.

Which is a _lot _ harder then people make it out to be. _Especially _when there was an attractive, a bit grumpy, male five feet from you and can hear _everything_ you do.

After thirty seconds of nothing happening Boromir snapped.

"Just go already!"

"I _can't!_ You're standing there, listening in. I'm getting stage fright."

"We need to get going. Just do your business and be done with it!"

"Ugh! Hum or something! Sing a song! I _can't go _knowing that you'll hear me!"

Boromir had grumbled some things which I'm pretty sure were multiple curses aimed at the inconvenience of me living, when he had started to hum some random ass song under his breath.

He wasn't particularly loud, but it was something, so, squeezing my eyes shut and pretending I was in an actually bathroom, I did my business.

I have never blushed so hard in my _entire_ life.

Boromir pointedly ignored me as we made our way back to camp and everyone had stared at us when we came into the clearing like we had taken an hour instead of five minutes.

I pointedly ignored their stares and grabbed my pack. As everyone prepared to head out I said,

"I was wrong. This isn't heaven. It's _hell!"_

To which Pippen, the youngest and most naive of the Fellowship responded, "This isn't heeven or heel. It's Arda."

The sound of my hand slapping my forehead had sent a flock of birds flying away from us in fright.


	8. The 10th Walker and Toothpaste

Hello again.

Usual disclaimers apply. I don't own jack.

* * *

There is one thing that all movies conveniently leave out. No matter how gross, how depraved, how shitty of a life the characters live, no matter _how_ much one spent in the woods, their teeth were always sparkling, pearly whites.

Let me tell you, that is _not _the way the world works in real life. My teeth were currently starting to feel like fuzzy caterpillars and I did not even want to _attempt _to imagine what they looked like. My mouth would probably be on one of those horror posters dentists like to hang up to scare kids into brushing their teeth. And I'm sure that if I smiled at my mom she would shriek and fall over in a dead faint from fright.

My tongue was feeling a little funky as well, now that I think about it.

I had tried over the past couple of days to see if the other's teeth were falling out of their heads, but everyone was pretty quiet, cuz you know, it requires _such _hard focus to hike the empty stretch of grass we were currently traversing, and the only one who spoke to me enough to see his teeth was Gandalf.

He didn't count though since he had old people teeth and even back in my world old people teeth were funky even _when_ they brushed them.

And Legolas. He didn't count as well. Everything about him just _screamed_cleanliness. His teeth were probably as self-cleaning as his hair appeared to be. And his clothes. And his skin.

Ugh.

After trudging about for a _week_ without brushing I had to put my foot down. There had to be _something_ I could use. Anything. Anything at all! I could kinda, sorta … not really, put up with the lack of plumbing and hygiene, but I _needed_ my teeth. I was only 23 for f*s sake! I need to be able to use them for another good 65 years. Give or take. Not too sure how long they lived here what with their lack of modern medicine and all, but if I was stuck here my teeth would be the _height_ of cleanliness for as long as I lived. And I _would_make it to _at least _70 even if it killed me.

Which it might.

I was in the back of the herd, like usual, when I stopped and waited to see how long it would take for them to notice I wasn't following so I could get their attention and therefore begin informing them of my current problem.

The bastards didn't even look back once!

Huffing I jogged my way back to my spot and decided to hell with it. "Guys! Guys! Amegos! Dudes! Guys! Guys! Buds! Men! Guys! Guys! Gu-

"What!"

Ah, good ol'Boromir. He had the patience of a fuse cord and it burned to the snub just as quickly. I could always count on him to pay attention to me. Even if it did consist of him yelling and raising his blood pressure.

"Dude, is there anything here on God's green earth that I can use to brush my teeth with?"

"What?"

"My _teeth _dude! _My teeth_! They haven't been brushed in a _week_ and I'm positive I spat out a wisdom tooth the other day due to the lack of care they're receiving. Let me see your teeth!"

And without further warning I launched myself at Boromir.

I have to say my tackle was spot on. Linebackers could have taken notes on how well I did it. Boromir fell flat on his back, which was probably _super _uncomfortable due to the pack he was lugging around, and I straddled him in order to shove my fingers in his mouth and see if his teeth were clean or as gross as mine were.

He lay there for a second in stunned disbelief, probably because he never had a gorgeous woman straddle him, before he struggled to shove me off.

"Let. Me. See. Your. TEETH!"

"Brufmph … hurmmh,"

*Shriek

"I can't believe you _bit me!_"

Was the indignant yell I let loose when Boromir nipped me. But that was after I managed to see that, while not necessarily Hollywood white, his teeth weren't as funky looking as mine _felt_ like.

Still straddling him, I managed to get one good whack to his chest before he shoved me off and rolled to his feet. Everyone had stopped and stared in amusement at our little scuffle and Frodo looked like he was _actually_going to crack a grin. That kid was all doom and gloom since I first laid eyes on him. He needed to lighten up.

From my position on the ground I shook a finger in Boromir's direction. "You've been holding out on me Bo," some spluttering and an incredulous '_Bo!?' _which I ignored, "I mean here I am, teeth yellower than an ear of corn, and you've had toothpaste all along!" Getting to my feet I crossed my arms and turned my nose in the air with, "I thought we were best buds!"

"We are _not _'best buds.'" *Grumble 'whatever a flower has to do with anything.'

Holding out a hand I made a 'gimme' motion. "Come on Boromir! I _really, really _need to brush my teeth. I'm going crazy here feeling these fuzzy caterpillars!"

While Boromir rolled his eyes at me Aragorn came forward and asked, "How long have you gone without?"

"A week," I curtly informed him.

"A week," he repeated then eyed me like he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Yes a week Aragorn! I mean _look _at my poor_teeth!_" Which was when I showed everyone the thirty two monsters currently taking up residence in my mouth. I almost wailed when I saw Legolas flinch back slightly.

Aragorn held his hands up like he was trying to deflect something. "We divvied up our cleaning paste amongst us and placed some in your pack. Have you not sought to look for it there?"

"WHAT!"


	9. In Which the 10th Walker Discusses Age

I wrote this the same time as the toothpaste one (obviously). I have about two more problems I can think of, but then I'm running low on scenarios. For the present moment. Ideas?

Usual disclaimers.

Review :)

* * *

It was a good full day before I talked to the Fellowship after the toothpaste incident. When I had shuffled around in my pack that night I had found it shoved near the bottom which was when I remembered seeing it before, and thinking that, due to its awful smell, it was some type of healing gunk.

How the _hell _was I supposed to know _that _was _toothpaste?_ _Why_ were men so bad at communicating? It would have taken five seconds to say, 'Hey that smelly brown stuff is for you to clean your teeth with.' And now I went a _week _with no tooth relief. That night I brushed my teeth for such a long time I could have made it into the Guinness Book of World Records.

For some reason I got the feeling that my punishing them with silence wasn't being taken as the punishment it was meant to be.

For one, Gandalf was smiling the entire time I wasn't talking.

When we made camp, it was dam well near _killing _me to stay silent for so long that I had to break it. And it was broken with a question that had been buzzing around in my mind _all day._

"So how old _are _you guys?"

The guys all stopped what they were doing to look at me. When they didn't say anything I rolled my eyes and asked, "What, is it a taboo subject to ask men their age? Kinda like how you never ask a woman her weight?"

"How much _do _you weigh?"

*Thwack

"I just said _you don't_ ask a woman that Pippin! I mean _my God!_"

"Why do you want to know our ages?" Aragorn cut in. Probably was sensing the argument about to erupt between Pippin and I and wanted to cut it off before it began.

Giving the pipsqueak one last glower I said, "I'm honestly curious. I could speculate about your ages, but I want to know. I mean, do _you_ guys know how old I am?"

"16?"

"What!? No!"

"Very well," Aragorn spoke up again. "I have no withholdings from telling you my age. I recently have seen my 84th summer."

I literally felt my jaw unhinge and dangle around the general area of my knees. 84! 84?

"84!?"

Aragorn smiled at me slightly from around his pipe, but I couldn't compute the man in front of me and the number 84. I turned to Boromir and asked hesitantly, "Are you eighty something too?"

Boromir shook his head in the negative, "Nay. I will soon see my 37th winter if all does not fail." I do not know why I let out a sigh at that, but I was glad that he wasn't _older than my grandfather._

Glancing back at Aragorn I had to ask, "_How_ are you 84? My _grandfather_ isn't even 84 and you don't look anywhere near his age."

In a rare form of teasing Aragorn replied, "Well as each summer past I found myself adding on the years until I came to 84."

I rolled my eyes at that. "You know what I mean."

"I come from a line of men that see longer years than most." I let out a snort at that. No shit. Him and Boromir looked like they were around the same age and Aragorn here tells me that they have a _47_ year difference between them. Longer years than most.

"Are you really a man then?" I was curious. No human lived so long and by the way Aragorn was aging it looked like he could easily see _another _eighty years.

Aragorn just gave a sigh and a sad smile while nodding his head. I raised my eyebrow in response but let it drop. Ok then.

Focusing my attention on the hobbits I asked them the same question.

Merry piped up with, "Well Frodo here is the oldest of us. He just saw his 43rd summer."

_What._

Completely oblivious to my eyes bulging he continued, "I just turned 34 myself. Sam here," he paused and looked at Sam, "Sam, how old are you now?"

Sam blushed when everyone looked his way, but mumbled, "Just reached my 41st autumn."

Merry then grinned and ruffled Pippin's hair as he finished with, "Pip here's the youngest of us. Hasn't even reach his majority yet he hasn't. He is 28. Still has another five years to go until he's an adult."

Holy hell. Even the youngest hobbit was older than I was. Man now _I_ really didn't want to say how old I was. Or relatively speaking, how young I was.

Gimli put his two cents in with, "I have just turned 131 myself."

And Legolas, "2,933." Hey wouldja look at that. I was pretty close.

Everyone turned to Gandalf once the others had gone about saying their incredibly old ages and with a sigh and a puff on his pipe he shared, "I have seen 315 years with my time on Arda." And let it at that.

I'm not too sure if everyone caught that, but that was the weirdest answer one could give for age. My time on Arda. Did he happen to lounge about in other worlds when he wasn't here on Arda? I shook my head. Poor, poor brain cells.

When I look back in that moment I realized I couldn't say that without being a hypocrite. Since I was from Earth and all. Huh, maybe he _did_ lounge about elsewhere.

Expectantly everyone turned and looked at me, waiting for my ground breaking age revelation.

"Ummm, not too sure I want to share now."

"Come, come girl. We have all shared. Now it is your turn. And you are, in fact, the one that brought the subject to light."

Thanks for reminding me Gandalf.

"Fine! I'm *grumble*mutter*deflect"

"What was that?"

"I'm 23. Happy?"

Everyone then proceeded to stare at me like I magically grew a horn out of my forehead.

The questions that followed were ones that I _did not _expect. Ever.

Especially by the male humans in our group.

"23? And yet you are not wed?" Courtesy of Boromir, who made the word 23 sound like he had said spinster with 52 cats instead.

I let out a surprised laugh at that before halting when the thought of _holy hell he might actually be serious_ crossed my mind.

"Wait. That marrying young thing is true?"

Aragorn continued the topic of spinterhood by saying, "It is surprising that you have reached such an age without having a suitor or a child yet."

"Wait. What?"

Boromir's mouth had dropped open at Aragorn's statement and asked, "You truly have not borne any heirs to your husband?"

I held up a hand to stop the flow of ridiculous statements and questions. I couldn't help the giggle though. Wow. How was _I_ the spinster when 84 year old Aragorn over there wasn't even married? Seriously?

"Dudes. No. Just no. I haven't even thought of marriage yet, let alone a _baby!_ I have things I want to do with my life you know?"

Boromir and Aragorn stared at me in such a way that I realized no, they didn't know.

Shrugging I continued, "I wouldn't have even seriously thought about marriage until I was 27 or something."

"Truly you are not serious?"

"Truly Bo, I am. You guys make it sound like I am a withered up old husk that won't be able to have kids after 25."

Their silence said what they thought about that.

I burst out laughing. Wiping a tear from my eye I asked, "You aren't really being serious are you? Come on, tell me your pulling my leg."

"Why would we pull your leg? What does that have to do with childbearing?"

"It's just a ... forget it."

Pause.

"You do know that technically a woman can bear a child at 40 right?"

Boromir and Aragorn stared at me before bursting out laughing. Aragorn almost chocked a bit on his smoke pipe before taking it out of his mouth. After a moment Boromir grinned at me and said, "You have the most interesting humor I have ever come across."

… "I was being serious."

"Of course."

My lack of stretch marks drew the others into conversation as well since they had nothing better to do.

Pippin engaged Boromir in what was the suitable age for a human woman and a hobbit woman to get married and start popping out kids, Gimli started on about how marriage was most sacred in his culture and Legolas said something about elves literally dying of a broken heart if their loved one perished.

Gandalf decided that enough chatter had passed and told everyone to get some rest since we _apparently_ needed to high tail it tomorrow.

What I wouldn't give for a full fueled, all-terrain vehicle to fall out of the sky. Right now.

...

Waiting ... now!

Sigh.

The last comment of the night was Gandalf putting to rest my lack of marriage and babies.

"I'm sure that there is some man out there willing to overlook certain characteristics and suffer having unique children with our darling companion."

"Hey!"


	10. In Which the 10th Walker Saves Boromir I

Ok this one will be mary sueish since I really, really, really like Boromir and I want to include him with my tenth walker in the other two movies.

And with the tenth walker discussing age, I pulled those numbers out of my ass. I have no idea if they are accurate or not since I literally do this by what I can recall.

Thanks.

I do not own Pocahontas, Hugh Jackman, LoTR, the Grim Reaper or anything else that obviously doesn't belong to someone as broke as I am.

Review :)

* * *

It was our last day in the Golden Wood and the creepy lady was seeing us off to the next leg of our journey. To be honest I was _really _glad we were leaving. And not because I was still under the impression that Galadriel was going to do away with me.

Lothlorien was too … stagnant I guess is the word. Nothing _ever _changed. _Ever!_ During our month long stay I had scratched a groove into the tree house the Fellowship was staying in and the next morning when I went to admire my handiwork It. Wasn't. There! I was thoroughly spooked out that day and stuck to Boromir like static cling.

I had made that scratch on the wall next to my head where I _slept_! My mind had flashed back to every single horror movie I had ever watched as I stared like a moron at the spot I _know_ I made a mark on, and Boromir was more than a little annoyed about me being constantly underfoot that day.

I told him tough beans dude, but didn't elaborate. I think he had an idea though since he was just as put out about the place as I was. He sure as _hell_ brooded more than normal.

I also didn't understand _why _it was called the Golden Wood. I sure as hell didn't see anything that could remotely be considered golden. Unless there was gold buried somewhere; the Golden Wood remained silver.

We each received a gift from Lady Light. Personally I think Gimli got the short end of the stick with getting Galadriel's hair.

He was definitely going to lose those.

I got some clear looking fluid in the most tricked out crystal bottle ever. Galadriel informed me that it would help during times of need.

Which my mind immediately supplied with clear fluid = vodka. That sure would help a whole spectrum of problem days.

Did vodka exist in Middle Earth?

Or maybe it was Tequila.

Well I'm sure I'll find out soon enough. I'm pretty sure Aunt Flow was going to visit and I could use all the booze I could get my hands on. Although maybe with all the weight I had been losing due to my Survivor diet it'll pass. _Please GOD!_

Well whatever it was, it was a better gift than Boromir's. He got a belt. Lame.

When we had separated into our boats, kayak, canoe things I hopped right on back with the one Boromir was in. His groan of pain was ignored as I picked up a paddle and tried to figure out how one was supposed to hold it. Or use it.

After Galadriel gave her blessing, like _that _was supposed to _protect _us or something, we pushed off the docks and made our way down the river.

"Just around the river bend-d-d-d! I look once more, just around the river bend-d-d! Beyond the shore!"

"For the love of the Valor! Stop. Singing!"

I pouted at Boromir from my spot in front of the canoe as he yelled at me. "Boromir! You're ruining my Pocahontas moment!"

"I've heard slain pigs die with less of a racket than you're making!"

*Gasp "Boromir!"

And with that I whacked my paddle in the water in his direction in a pathetic attempt to get him wet.

My splash veered to the left and fell harmlessly back into the current. If music were to have accompanied it, it probably would have sounded like _virrrrumpt._ All anti-climatic and stuff. Boromir had stared at the arc the water had made before turning to me with a raised eyebrow.

I scowled back.

Then blinked as a wall of water hit me and knocked me off the canoe. Hey what can I say, I'm a light weight. Not drinking wise though. _That_ would be _awful_. Thank you Irish blood.

Popping up, gasping and spluttering and generally looking like a wet cat I grinned. After I was able to push my sopping hair out of my face and all. Boromir was currently leaning over the side of the canoe his mouth open in horror and looking about three seconds from jumping in after me.

"Aww, Boromir. Didn't know you cared!"

He quickly schooled his expression before saying, "You can swim?"

"_Why_ yes Bo. I can even read and write as well. Now help me up you jack ass!"

In a surprising show of strength, Boromir lifted me, body and soul, into the canoe. And more importantly, without toppling the whole thing. Glancing at the others after I got most of the funky water out of my eyes I saw they didn't look too concerned. Probably were relieved I had stopped singing.

Other than that it was pretty boring.

I had hummed the rest of the Disney song under my breath just to annoy Boromir, but pretty soon I was too busy trying to make sure my arms weren't going to fall off. Rowing was _hard!_

Huffing like I smoked three packs a day I cried when Aragorn informed us that we were stopping to make camp. Everyone had glanced at me in concern, but when I had chocked out, "I'm _so _happy!" they had rolled their eyes and went about making camp.

What's a girl gotta do around here to get some sympathy?

The next three days carried about in pretty much the same manner. I sang any Disney river songs I could think of, Boromir yelled at me, we tuffled and then went back to rowing. Secretly I think they liked my singing despite the fact that I have been told by a friend that I was the most tone deaf person she had ever encountered. Pishaw.

On our last day of rowing we had passed some _really _tall statues of two men holding their left arms out. For some reason we rowed right past them even though they appeared to be warning morons not to continue.

If only someone had listened to me.

"It looks like we kinda shouldn't continue onward. You know, with the big dudes saying 'halt!' and all."

Aragorn had been the one to dismiss my concerns since they were his ancestors or something. Ok, that _really _make me feel better now Aragorn. Thanks. As long as we're all good with your dead relatives and all. _Now_ I can pass without thinking they were going to come to life and step on me.

There was a rushing, thundering sound that Aragorn helpfully pointed out was a massive waterfall before directing us to the shore so we could continue on foot.

I half-heartily let out a groan. Half-heartily because a) if we got caught in the current there was no saving us since I could barely row to begin with and I didn't think Boromir had the strength to save us both. We'd go over the side like a viking pyre boat thing. And b) we would have to do some more walking once we landed.

On the other hand I wouldn't have to row anymore. Positives. Positives.

Why the _hell _couldn't we take a break? I was seriously worried that I had left my pinkie toes behind somewhere on the never ending walking we've been doing.

Once Boromir had pulled the boat to shore I had flopped out like a dead fish. Boromir nudged me with his toe, but I decided that it would have taken too much effort to punch him so I didn't move.

Boromir then showed how much he cared by shrugging and leaving me lying there kissing the dirt.

Bitch.

By the time I managed to lift my head, Boromir was no where to be seen, Frodo had wandered off somewhere and everyone else was staring around aimlessly like they had each smoked a bag of weed. Was I the only optimist in this group? God my job was so hard sometimes.

Getting up I tried to brush the dirt off my shirt and pants but only managed to spread it around. Eh whatever. They were each so dirty that you couldn't tell anyways.

Randomly pointing to the woods I shouted,

"OMG it's a million bucks!"

The reaction I got from that statement was blown _completely _out of proportion.

Legolas whipped out his bow and lets loose an arrow in the direction I had exaggeratedly pointed in, since apparently he thought I meant the four legged bucks and not the green Benjamin ones.

Aragorn was apparently at his breaking point since he yelled out his complaint. "Why would you say that if there aren't any deer?"

"What? I wasn't talking about deer."

"Yes you were. That wasn't amusing at all."

"God a woman tries to lift spirits and is shot down like a duck in hunting season. Where's Boromir?" He would have appreciated that. I think I told him about Benjamin once or something. I think.

Legolas had wandered back into the clearing after retrieving his wayward arrow and answered the tail end of my statement. "I saw him wander off into the wood. I think he was checking up on Frodo."

And that was my cue to walk into the woods like that moronic girl that always got killed first in horror movies.

Halfway through my wandering it hit me that this was when Boromir kicked the can. Pushed up daisies. Was sleeping with the fishes. Made love with the Grim Reaper.

Holy Shit!

"Boromir! Boromir! Moron! Stupid! Borom-"

A hand clamped over my mouth and I muffled screamed against it before I realized it was Boromir. Which had to say something about me since I recognized him by the callouses in his hand. Not too sure if that was good or bad.

Turning around I punched him.

"What the hell? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!"

"Why are you yelling my name?"

The question made all my irritation at him fly away like a helium balloon.

Grabbing at the flap of fabric peaking over his chain mail I dragged him down so that we were face to face. My nose was practically touching his. His eyes got wide and he looked side to side but I ignored that.

"Boromir! Are you having weird pygmalion thoughts about the Ring?! Be straight with me man! You can't die!" I wailed.

Grabbing my wrists he pulled me from my death grip on his shirt. "What are you talking about? What about pigs?"

"What? No! Stay with me stupid if you want to see the sunset."

"What?"

I had started pulling on his arm to drag him back to camp and safety before realizing that him holding his sword would probably be a better course of action. Which was the same time we heard the stomping of those weird super orks.

"Holy Hell!"

I managed to pull him behind a tree before the line of STD's broke the crest of the tiny hill in front of me.

I froze.

And Boromir dragged me behind the tree and took my place of staring down the orks. Which is _not _how I planned on saving Boromir. Since the main part of my plan involved him staying _away _from the things that end up killing him.

My annoyance over my failed plan pushed away my probably legit fear and I hopped out from behind the tree to hide behind Boromir.

Once again finding the only fabric I could see, I grabbed his hips and tried dragging him back. He responded by pushing me and reaching for his stupid horn instead and blowing on it.

Boromir better get out of this alive or so help me sexy Hugh Jackman I will _kill _him!


	11. In Which the 10th Walker Takes a Bath

Usual disclaimer. I'm super poor.

Review :)

* * *

On this journey I discovered a lot of things about myself. One, that I can't go a week without brushing my teeth. Two, my sword skills were worse than a toddlers. Three, I remember random things about Lord of the Rings at completely inappropriate times, and four, that I can, apparently, go a straight month without bathing. Or at least, I think it was a month.

Not by choice.

I would have been more worried about the last one if everyone else wasn't polluting the air with their B.O. alongside me. We all smelled pretty bad, which ironically, made it smell like we didn't smell. However, even Legolas was looking a little scruffy and by this point I wouldn't be able to tell a hobo apart from Aragorn with the wiry thing growing out of his face.

For reasons I cannot fathom, we didn't come across a stream bigger than the length of my arm during the course of the month. Which meant no baths. My hair had more oil in it than John Travolta's did in Grease. I haven't yet been brave enough to lift my pants up and see the state of my legs, but I'm pretty sure at this point I would have been mistaken for bigfoot. Or bigfoot's wife.

Around the time that I was _completely _positive those weird micro-bugs that apparently live on your skin had multiplied by a buzzilion we came across a river.

And not just any river. No, this one was wide and slow moving and had conveniently placed large rocks along the edge to hide behind as one bathed. When I saw it that Latin song, actual Latin not Spanish Latin, that plays during epic moments in movies popped into my head as I bowled over the group in my haste to get near salvation.

Chucking my pack off I hugged the nearest boulder and started to weep. I had never seen a more beautiful sight in my _life_. Well besides the time I found the toothpaste.

Forcing myself to let go of the boulder I shrugged out of my shirt and was about to rip my pants off when I heard a sound like a heifer having a simultaneous orgasm and heart attack. Not that I know what that would sound like, but you know. Turning I saw Boromir interpreting a mime while the other's had turned their backs. After a moment it clicked that I was doing a strip tease in front of a bunch of men which embarrassed me for like half a second before I stopped caring.

Hey they were keeping me from my cleaning, ducky time.

Ignoring them I pushed my pants off which left me in my much worn out bra and holey underwear. Boromir made the cow noise again, but I was too busy screwing up my courage to look at me legs to make an uncomfortable sexual joke at him.

After a minute of prepping and telling myself that no one could get hairier than Gimli, I looked down.

Whew.

Ok. Bad, but not as bad as I was thinking. Not yet near Bigfoot wife status. Sitting down I brought my calf up close to my face. I _may _ be able to get away with shaving if I was _super_careful with a small dagger. Awesome. And that was as far as my courage took me. There was no way I was looking under my arms. Couldn't shave _that _ with a dagger so there wasn't a point in tormenting myself. The only other thing I could think of was tweezing, but I didn't have a tweezer and wasn't too sure where I would find one. Maybe I could ask Gimli to make me one.

He's good with metal right?

Eh. I'll worry about it later because that sweet, sweet water was calling my name.

Letting out a moan that _may _have been borderline porn worthy I sprinted to the water's edge and jumped in cannon ball style.

Two seconds later I was screaming like a victim in Saw.

Holy _hell _ it was cold. Antarctica cold. Deep space cold. Pluto cold.

My first instinct was to scramble for the shore line and roll around in the dirt to get warm again, but fought it. And stopped screaming. Boromir had raced to the edge and looked about to rush in for a full damsel-in-distress rescue so I held up a shaking hand and said, "N-n-n-o-o—o-o-o it-it's ok-k-kay. Ju-ju-s-s-s-t-t-t c-o-o-o—o-l-d-d-d-d." I was too busy having my teeth chattering to scream again, or talk normally, but Boromir got the hint and turned his back to help the others make camp. Which was apparently how they were going to go about ignoring the sexiest member of their group taking a bath.

Looking would be indecent, don't'cha know.

I attempted to roll my eyes at the thought, but couldn't due to my violent shivering, since I was 95% they were all closet pervs. Except Pipin. He was like a baby Hobbit.

Wait.

FML I killed Pipin's innocence. And the chance for any of the others to get laid. One look at my awesome bod and no other medieval woman would be able to compare.

Ok, maybe Aragorn wouldn't be affected since he had Arwen, but all the others were ruined! Mwahahahaha.

The others were looking at me and it took a slow second before I realized I was stuttering out the evil villain laugh. Ok that's enough. Time to scrub.

Taking a deep breath I dunked myself under and started to scratch and scrub at my hair like I had a bad case of fleas. I didn't open my eyes but I could only imagine the cloud of dirt wafting up from me and floating down the current to kill some poor unsuspecting fish.

I think I read somewhere that not bathing for a month can make you toxic.

Or was that doing drugs?

No, I think it was bathing.

By the time I came up due to the burning in my lungs I noticed something was different.

Where the _hell _was the Fellowship?

I had curled up in the fetal position when I was scrubbing my hair and apparently that slow moving current was stronger than I thought since it dragged me off . Straightening up I went under since the bottom of the river feel out from under my feet. Ok. It was definitely deeper here.

It took me a good five minutes before I made it to shore and the stupid river had pulled me down another fifty feet before I hit the shore line. Squinting up the river I could make out a couple of blobs that I hoped turned out to be the Fellowship and not some other camp. Since I was pretty sure I wouldn't make it out alive. I wasn't naïve enough to think that strange men roughing it with no woman around for miles and one suddenly showing up naked, or near to it, would be able to skip off without any harm.

In those circumstances even my fabulous B cups would look like a slice of heaven.

Well one positive. It was warm.

Groaning over the fact that all my washing was for nothing, I trugged in the direction of the blobs.

It took me about twenty minutes before I could determine that yes, those were my wayward men. They appeared to be unmaking camp and Boromir was splashing around in the river like a drunkin moron. By this point I was dry and my feet were killing me.

Everyone ended up being too focused on what they were doing so they didn't notice when I wandered right through the herd and stole some jerky from Sam's pack. Flopping near the fire pit I chewed on the piece of leather and quipped, "What's up doc?"

_That_ stopped everyone in their tracks and Boromir had spun around so fast that he almost fell backwards into the river.

At least _he _wouldn't float down. All that metal would just drag him to the bottom.

Boromir, again, was the first to move and he waded out of the river so fast he would have won a gold if it happened to be a sport. Rushing over he pulled me up and crushed me to his wet, smelly, cold chain mail filled chest.

Ugh. All my _cleaning. Gone!_

"Where have you been?"

My response was muffled against his chest since it was smushed up against it an all. "You know, seeing the sights. Taking in the sounds. Living life."

"We were afraid you had drowned!"

The others came up and voiced their concerns as well. Apparently randomly disappearing helps them forget that I'm not fit for proper company.

"It is dangerous to wander off on your own. There are wild men who scout these plains." Aragorn.

"You should have let us know you moved. There are not trees around for me to ask about wayward companions." Hippy.

"Glad you're alright lass." Gimli.

"We were just about to eat! Now supper's ruined!" Pipin.

Thanks a lot pip-squeak. Nice to see where your priorities lie.

Shoving Boromir away I ran my hand through my wet strands of hair and huffed, "The current dragged me off. Sorry. Can't control nature like Storm."

Cue blank looks.

"I'm still naked."

Everyone hopped back and away from me like I had just announced I was actually a man, and turned fire engine red as they automatically looked at my boobs and bare skin.

Lucky for them my bra and undies were black. No wet tee shirt contests here. If they saw a nipple they probably would have simultaneous aneurisms.

Aragorn had shrugged out of his cloak and shoved it in my face. Hesitantly I took it with the tips of my fore finger and thumb.

It smelled awful.

"Thanks."

Resetting camp was underway so I walked back over to the spot where I chucked my pack and grabbed my dirty encrusted clothes. After scrubbing them to death I laid them out on the rocks and removed Aragorn's cloak to rebathe.

God I was right back to where I had started.

Which was the time, of course, when five wild men popped out from behind the boulder my wet clothes were on.

Someone up there really hated me.

Or was just really against me taking a bath.


	12. Blooper

So I have a bunch of unfinished one-shots that I need to get around to finishing. Have about three at the moment. Haven't started on the Saving Boromir part 2 and I wasn't going to continue the bath one, but since everyone thanks I left it on a cliff hanger I know how I will continue it.

I know that this is a parody and I thought my saving Boromir was her being a mary sue, but I guess not. This is more of a blooper fill in than an actual chapter. Had to stick in at least _one_ mary sue.

Usual disclaimers and thanks to everyone who has reviewed and liked this story. It makes me want to continue writing.

* * *

So I found out much, much later, that I wasn't conversing with the guys in English like I was lead to believe. Apparently whoever shoved me here also made it so I could speak and understand what I now know to be Westron for reasons unknown to me, and after I had a fit, am now thankful for.

I was never any good at languages.

Even English.

Anywho as we were ambling along I started to hum Jukebox Hero by Foreigner under my breath since it happened to be the song I got stuck in my head at the time, bobbing to the beat and _really _ wishing my iPhone hadn't died. It was when I had finished the song that Boromir had asked what language I had been singing.

"What are you talking about?"

"That song. I have never heard such a language before. What is it called?"

"What?"

Aragorn put his two cents in with, "I am familiar with most languages of Arda, and yet I will have to agree with Boromir. What language was that just now?"

I stared at them with what I am sure was an incredulous expression before speaking like I was talking to an especially slow child. "It was English. You know, the language we're speaking to each other right now."

Aragorn and Boromir didn't respond, but turned to each other and had that silent communication thing they did whenever someone was going to break something to me.

It usually ended up being Boromir's job.

Which is who ended up being the one to inform me that no, you dumbass, we are speaking Westron, not Engleash.

I flipped.

Ironically enough in English.

"What?! You mean for the past few weeks I've been speaking another language and I didn't even know it? What is going on? I'm dead! I have to be dead. There's no other explanation. I guess magic will do in a pinch, but seriously? Magic? Ugh! Why me?"

I had taken up the age old stress reducer of pacing while running my hands through my not so clean hair as I wailed to myself in the mother language. Everyone just stared since they didn't understand one whit. Aragorn not so helpfully pointed out that they didn't understand what I was saying since it was in that strange, to them, language.

Around the time my hair started to stand up I stopped pacing and groaned. "I can't believe this."

Boromir dryly pointed out, "Well at least we know for sure that your from some far off place and not insane."

I just stared at him and didn't designate to respond to that stupid statement.

Did this face look like the face of a liar?

After everyone determined that I was, in fact, _not_ from Arda, they continued on deciding that my little episode wasn't worth fretting over.

Did I say they were gentlemen? I take it back. I wasn't like it was my fault I had multiple crisis a week, it just happened.

It took me about five minutes of pouting at their disinterested backs before I realized that I could insult them whenever I wanted. Or anyone really.

Now all I had to do was figure out how the _heck _I spoke English one minute and Westeron the next.

Ugh.


	13. In Which the 10th Walker Saves Boromir 2

Hey guys. The only disclaimer for this one is that I don't own Boromir. Or Lord of the Rings.

Review :)

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As I look back on my saving Boromir plan, it occurred to me that he was still alive mainly in part of my clumsiness and a massive stroke of luck.

And my epic skillz. Obviously.

After Boromir blew his stupid horn, therefore alerting the orcs that yes we are right here, come and get us, he drew his sword and yelled.

I, on the other hand, frantically patted Boromir down to see if I could scrounge a dagger or something. I was a sitting Peking Duck over here. And remembering Boromir's stellar track record of staying alive, I didn't have much faith that I would make it out with everything in tack if I was left with nothing pointy.

Those things were orcs on steroids. Why was evil so innovative? Seriously.

I managed to find the dinkiest dagger in existence. It was better suited as a butter knife than a weapon. I sighed. We were going to die.

Peaking under Boromir's arm I searched around for that semi-smart, confident STD that ends up sticking Boromir like a pin cushion. When I spotted him I groaned. Then yelped since Boromir decided to charge the line of orcs instead of doing the smart thing of turning tail and running away.

In the movie the super orc moves all slow and suave, taking his sweet time to notch his arrow and aim while battle rages around him. Um, no. This mother had an arrow already in place and was about to let one rip when I flopped to the ground and grabbed Boromir's ankle. Since he was in the process of moving forward my attempt at stopping him had him fall flat on his face in front of me as the arrow whizzed ahead and killed a tree.

The hippy wasn't going to be happy about that.

The orc let out a howl the same time the other's jumped in all dramatic like to save us. Boromir managed to roll to the side to avoid being stuck like a pig and hopped to his feet to decapitate the nearest orc. Black blood flew through the air and of course had to land all over my face and hair. I gagged.

It smelled like dead fish wrapped in manure.

Seeing the orc notch another arrow I scrambled to my feet before glancing around like a loon to try and find where the_hell _Boromir disappeared to. The orc was looking somewhere to my left so I followed its eye and saw Boromir about ten feet away. I also happened to notice that he was next to a hill.

Light bulb.

Running in a zig zag pattern like I was avoiding a crocodile, while ducking randomly and praying I didn't get hit, I tackled Boromir around the knees. He buckled and the second arrow the orc let loose grazed his cheek, but we managed to avoid others by toppling over the side of the hill.

Plan executed.

One thing I _didn't _take into account when I thought of this stroke of genius was the fact that Boromir would hold onto his sword. Which is how I have this epic looking scar on my thigh which can only be seen if I am 'indecent.' People get scars from falling off their bikes; I get scars from being stabbed by an honest to God sword.

No one will be able to beat that back home.

It was, however, a pain in the ass making sure it didn't get infected. But that's another story.

Luckily he managed to drop the sword after he _stabbed_ me, so I kept all my fingers and toes. Except for my pinky ones since those fell off from walking abuse.

We rolled about in a tangle of limbs, somehow avoiding all the trees randomly lying around. We did almost smack into some head statue of a _really _effeminate dude, but that was avoided as well. I do think I lost some hair strands to its nose though.

When we finally stopped it was with Boromir crushing me from his massive weight as he landed on top of me. He also managed to brush against my stab wound. Lifting a hand I punched him in the eye and tried to shove him off. He ended up rolling off when he grabbed his eye. I would have let loose a quip about how that was the least hurt I was going to do to him, but I was too busy grabbing my leg and gasping like a hooked fish.

Boromir quickly forgot about his eye when he saw all the blood.

Thank the _Lord_ I'm not squeamish because there was a _lot _of blood.

I tried not to grab at it since my hands were covered in dirt and orc blood and heaven knew what kind of parasites grew in that, and I screamed at Boromir not to touch when he tried putting pressure with his dirty hands.

Boromir stumbled back at my yell and was looking around as I moaned like I was giving birth.

Let me tell you it _hurt!_

He eventually ripped his undershirt which thankfully didn't have anything questionable on it and tied it tightly around my thigh which made me want to punch him again. In his other eye. I think I felt my whole _leg _throb with that.

The others took that moment to race down the hill to where we were. Apparently the battle was over.

I didn't hear much since I was forcing myself _not_ to throw up, but I believe I caught the gist of it that could be summed up in two words.

Hobbits missing.

Shit.

After Aragorn gave the low down he hovered over my leg and informed the others that I needed to get back to camp immediately to reduce the chance of infection. I whimpered like a whipped bitch at that. Camp meant movement. Movement meant more pain.

No Bueno dude.

I tried to convince Aragorn that it was perfectly ok for me to stay here, not moving, until it healed, but I'm not too sure if my arguments were sound enough. Mainly because my breath kept hitching and I couldn't help but moan and groan and squeeze out some tears in between speaking.

Boromir took it upon himself to be the one who carried me since he gave me the wound and all. Once I sucked down some pain meds, or booze, I was going to inform him that he was from now on my personal ass and was going to carry me around like one on his back until I was fully healed.

I would have let out an evil chuckle if Boromir hadn't decided at that moment to lift me up and if the pain from the jarring didn't make me black out.

Secretly though I was glad we all made it out in one, relative, piece. Even if I _did _get stabbed.


	14. The 10th Walker and Mushrooms

Thanks to guest who suggested edible and non-edible plants. Keep the ideas rolling everyone.

Over three thousand views. Love you guys. Thanks!

Usual disclaimers. Don't own nada.

And I Love your reviews :). Please tell me though if I need to work on anything.

* * *

If I ever made it back home, the skills I learned in Middle Earth would help me survive the zombie apocalypse everyone seems to think is inevitable.

For one, I would know which mushrooms to pick.

Yes, while everyone else who survived the zompocalypse would pick mushrooms meant to kill I would rise above and pick the good kind.

And by good kind I mean non-poisonous, healthy ones. Not the ones that make you high. Which, arguably could be the good ones and I'm pretty positive the hobbits know mushrooms out there that aren't kid friendly and I _would_ know which ones those were if the little pains would _tell me_ … and I'm going off. Back to the topic.

Surprisingly, or not, Aragorn was the most helpful in identifying things to eat, things to heal, and things that kill. Three things everyone should know about the wilderness according to Aragorn, who always delved into full lecture mode whenever he was pointing something out.

This lecturing about wildlife started after I _almost_ consumed a questionable leaf. Hey in my defense the plant looked like lettuce. And I was hungry.

Aragorn just happened to be looking behind him when he saw me leaning over about to pluck the most gorgeous head of lettuce I've ever seen. He let out a shout, grabbed the back of my shirt and all but chucked me away from my dinner.

The others, like clockwork, had stopped and stared at the drama unfolding. At least they got daily entertainment with me around.

This was a unique episode of entertainment since it was, for once, not Boromir and I going at it, but Aragorn pretty much just yelling in my face.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

...

"Is that an actual question?"

"What in all of Arda possessed you to pick up the mortus plant? Even brushing against it can allow the poison on the leaves to seep into your skin!"

Now I wasn't all that good with latin, nor did I know they spoke it here, but mortus kinda sounded like death or something equally unpleasant.

"Dude, that looks like a head of lettuce. I'm starving. Ergo I want to eat the lettuce."

From the corner of my eye I could see Boromir shaking his head at my lack of preservation skills.

Well _excuse_ me Boromir.

Aragorn, on the other hand, was hovering over the lettuce pointing out all the reasons why this plant shouldn't be consumed.

"As you can see here the red vein...,"

"And the darkness of the plant near the roots...,"

"The slight oder of decaying meat...,"

"The way the leaves curl...,"

Pretty much a whole bunch of nothing that I could understand.

It still looked like lettuce.

I cut him off, "Dude, fine. I won't eat the lettuce. Sheesh. When's dinner?"

I couldn't be a hundred percent positive, but it looked like Aragorn had pouted when I cut him off from his little spiel.

Ok then.

Feeling a bit bad for cutting off his moment, I amended, "Aragorn,I would _love_ to hear all about what would kill me in a bit. How about you show me what we can gather for dinner eh. So I'll know what to eat in case were separated. I'll even build the fire."

Which is how I became educated in the dos and don'ts of edible plant eating in Middle Earth.

And how I almost killed myself for a second time that night by _almost _touching a poisonous mushroom.

Even the hobbits lectured me on _that _one.


	15. The 10th Walker Chases Hobbits I

Hey Guys. I'm back.

Usual disclaimers. Review!

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*Huff *huff *gasp *wheeze *huff *huff *pant *hu-

*Coughing *chocking *spitting

"&^%#%( bug!"

"Stop stalling! We need to catch up!"

Three days. Three days of non-stop running. Once the guys had dragged me back to the camp site to tend to my wound they had all come to the conclusion that the Hobbits had indeed bolted. Frodo and Sam wandered off without a so much as by your leave, but poor Merry and Pippin had been carted off and were currently adorning the backs of two super orcs like a pair of ugly back backs.

After a bit of hemming and hawing, and me trying _not _to pass out as Legolas tended to my leg, Aragorn decided for the group that we were going to go after Merry and Pip instead of doing their original jobs of protecting the Ring. Yep that's right. When in doubt of what to do, look to Aragorn. Found out later that his middle name was 'always-takes-the-moral-high-ground.' Go figure.

Boromir had asked how long we were going to wait before setting off after the orcs and Aragorn had shot me a, 'I'm about to screw you over' look before saying, "We will leave in three hours."

Screw my sword wound, I almost died from chocking on my _spit _ in disbelief.

"WHAT!"

Aragorn very pointedly did _not _look my way. Boromir had given me a look of sympathy though which I completely ignored. It was his entire fault in the first place. No brownie points for him.

Gritting my teeth and trying to simultaneously _not _grab my leg and punch the hippy in the eye I said, "Aragorn. In case you _haven't _noticed, I've got a MASSIVE. HOLE. IN. MY. LEG!"

Before Aragorn could respond, Legolas had taken that moment to pour booze over the wound.

I've been told that my scream could have been heard five miles away that day. Merry and Pippin were very concerned when they heard it and looked unnaturally happy to see me when we came across them later on. Apparently they thought I kicked the can.

Well no cans were kicked that day, but a certain elf was.

"%^&*($! %^&*())^! HOLY $%^&*)!"

While I screamed and cursed in utter agony, Legolas quickly shoved some plant into the wound and wrapped it. Boromir had knelt next to me when he saw what the hippy was about to do and had hovered his hands over me in case I started thrashing. The second I could see past my tears and saw Boromir hovering with concern etched over his face I lunged, or as much as I was able, and wrapped my arms around Boromir's neck.

Hard.

"I'm going to #$%*)& murder YOU BOROMIR!"

*gasp

It took both Aragorn and Legolas to remove my boa constrictor grip from Boromir's neck. Gimli stood around looking as if he wasn't sure he should be concerned or amused.

Dam dwarf.

Once tensions had cooled and it didn't look like I was going to try another attempt on Boromir's life, Legolas informed me of what he had done.

"The ailerion plant grows in abundance along rivers. It is a powerful numbing agent and blood clotter. It should kick in soon and the pain will go away. It would be best if you don't move, but that cannot be helped."

I glowered and glared, but managed a short, "Thank you," to which Legolas nodded.

I sat there while the others shuffled around and made up camp trying to figure out how long it was going to take for this whatsits plant to take effect.

Five minutes later I was poking my leg in fascination. Holy hell. This stuff was better than morphine! I couldn't feel a_thing!_

"Guys! Look at this. Man that was _some _stuff you stuck in there hippy. I can't feel anything! It's like my leg isn't there anymore." Poke. Poke. Poke.

Boromir came over and batted my hands away from my numb leg. "Stop that, you're hindering your recovery."

"I'm not talking to you right now Boromir. Go away."

Even though I wasn't looking at him I could tell that he was rolling his eyes. "Don't roll your eyes at me stupid."

"I thought you weren't talking to me?"

One finger salute. Your old friend finger has missed you Boromir. She says hi.

Aragorn took that moment to come over and announced, "We will be heading out now. Legolas, can you grab more of the ailerion plant? It will probably be best to have some on hand."

Once the first sentence had left Aragorn's lips I had lifted my head to stare at him in disbelief, "What happened to leaving in three hours?"

Aragorn shrugged, the bastard, saying, "I thought that it would take more time to get you sorted."

What!

Holding out a hand to pull me up he continued, "Let's see how well you can stand shall we?"

I won't lie. There was about five seconds where I contemplated biting that hand. But I didn't. Because I'm mature. And nice.

Scowling I grabbed it and wobbled once I settled on my feet. After a few seconds of nothing happening Aragorn smiled while I continued to scowl. Ignoring him I took a step forward –

And fell flat on my face.

I lay there, with my face in the dirt, at the point where I no longer cared. Ugh. Life.

Boromir had to roll me on my back and pull me up before I tried moving again. Holding onto his forearm I told the general populous, "Don't think I'll be running after them half-pints dudes."

Aragorn looked half frustrated, half bemused when he said, "Well we cannot leave you here," thanks Aragorn, "and you obviously can't walk." Here he paused and cupped his chin in his hand looking thoughtful.

I, on the other hand, had already come up with a solution.

"This is Boromir's fault so as of now until I'm healed he is my ass."

Everyone just looked at me horrified with that statement. Ignoring them, I shuffled my grasp up Boromir's arm until I made it to his back. Hopping up I curled my arms over his shoulders and lifted my uninjured leg to wrap around his waist. The other was left hanging like a bad pick up line. "Boromir! Grab my leg. I can't lift it."

It took him a couple of seconds, but he grabbed both my legs so I wouldn't slip off. I could tell he was blushing since I could see all the others doing so due to my 'inappropriate' position. That and I could practically feel the heat emitting off his face.

I rolled my eyes.

Thumping his chest I yelled, "Mush!"

And we were off.

Since they guys I was with were in fact _not _gentlemen, I only got to hang onto Boromir's back for a day before he kicked me off and I was forced to run on my own.

When _that _little episode happened I had cursed at them with every English curse word I had at my disposal.

And despite the fact that I had received my wound a _day ago _that plant did something to heal it up super quick. I would make a fortune in the medical field if I brought it back home. All natural.

Which is why, at the present moment, I was hacking up a bug that I swallowed with Boromir bitching at me.

"This is all your fault!"


End file.
